LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

Presented  by 

"T'roVVV.'B.GTreene,"!)-^ . 

BV  4315^3  [ 

Ward,  John  William  George. 
Parables  for  littel  people 


PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 
REV.  J.  W.  G.  WARD 


PARABLES    FOR 
LITTLE    PEOPLE 

Fifty-two  Sermonettes 

BY 

REV.  J.  W.  G.  WARD 

NEW   COURT  CHURCH, 
TOLLINGTON  PARK,  LONDON 

Author  of  ''Problems  That  Perplex!'  etc. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

REV.  G.  CAMPBELL  MORGAN,  D.D. 


NEW  ^^^SUF  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1 92 1, 
BY  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


TO 

EILEEN  AND  BEECHER 

AND 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  EMANUEL, 

BOOTLE  AND  NEW  COURT,  LONDON 


INTRODUCTION 

It  is  told  of  Abraham  Lincoln  that  once  he  was 
asked  to  express  his  opinion  of  a  book  of  poems, 
and  did  so  by  saying:  ^^ These  poems  will  be 
greatly  liked  by  persons  who  like  poems  of  this 
sort/'  There  may  have  been  some  veiled  sarcasm 
in  that  statement — but  by  no  means  necessarily  so. 
No  poems  are  liked  by  all  people.  It  is  equally 
true  that  every  book  makes  its  appeal  to  certain 
persons — and  having  read  these  Parables,  I  am 
constrained  to  say,  and  that  with  no  suspicion  of 
sarcasm,  they  will  be  greatly  loved  by  people  who 
love  stories  of  this  kind.  And  who  are  these 
people  ?  Unquestionably  the  very  ^  *  Little  People ' ' 
for  whom  they  are  written. 

Mr.  Ward  has  written  with  understanding.  He 
is  today  conducting  one  of  the  most  conspicuously 
successful  ministries  in  London,  in  the  church  of 
which  I  was  minister  for  four  years,  twenty  years 
ago.  He  has  a  remarkable  hold  upon  his  young 
people ;  and  equally  helps  the  great  crowds  of  busy 
men  and  women  who  throng  the  sanctuary  to  the 
doors.  In  these  Parables  we  discover  something 
of  the  secret  of  his  success.  Other  secrets  would 
be  revealed  in  his  preaching  and  pastoral  work. 
Here  he  is  with  the  children  in  the  great  world  of 
romance,  imagination,  make-believe;  and  it  is  all 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

so  child-like,  that  a  child  might  have  written.  That 
is  the  greatest  charm  of  the  book.  Very  cleverly 
too,  he  gets  in  his  moral,  his  quiet  hint  at  a  lesson 
to  be  drawn,  without  ever  seeming  to  preach.  I 
believe  that  Mothers  everywhere  will  welcome 
these  Parables  for  their  children;  and  I  am  sure 
the  children  will  get  genuine  delight  in  reading 
them. 

G.  Campbell  Morgan. 


FOREWORD 

New  Court  Church,  of  which  the  author  is 
minister,  is  one  of  the  famous  London  churches 
founded  in  1662,  during  the  time  of  the  Puritans, 
and  quaint  old  Richard  Baxter  was  among  its 
early  ministers.  The  original  site  near  Fleet 
Street  is  now  occupied  by  the  Law  Courts,  and 
the  present  spacious  sanctuary  has  been  the 
sphere  of  some  notable  ministers.  World-famed 
men  like  Dr.  Campbell  Morgan,  Ossian  Davies, 
and  A.  C.  Hill  have  been  its  pastors,  and  of  their 
successor  the  British  Weekly  says:  ^'That  very 
able  young  minister  at  Tollington  Park,  the  Rev. 
J.  W.  G.  Ward,  can  gather  round  him  on  a  hot 
June  evening  a  congregation  which  fills  his  church, 
even  to  the  farthest  window-seats  of  the  galleries. 
There  is  a  very  stimulating  earnestness  of  purpose 
in  Mr.  Ward's  methods.''  And  these  Parables 
have  gained  such  golden  opinions  for  their 
originality  and  charm,  that  they  are  published  in 
response  to  a  widely-expressed  desire. 


CONTENTS 

I 

PAGE 

The  Secret  of  Success    ....      15 

II 

A  Chat  About  the  Clock 

.      20 

•    III 

The  Road  to  Happiness    . 

.      24 

'      IV 

The  Heart  of  a  Hero 

.      29 

'        V 

A  Tale  of  a  Toy-shop    . 

.      33 

VI 

The  a.  0.  T.  C 

37 

VII 

The  February  Face    .     . 

.      41 

VIII 

The  Sunbeam    .... 

45 

IX 

The  Queer  Comrade    .     .     , 

49 

X 

The  Fairies  in  the  Fire   . 

53 

XI 

The  Pirates 

57 

XII 

Faithful  Unto  Death     . 

61 

XIII 

Mournful  Max,  the  Miser    . 

64 

XIV 

Ladies  First 

69 

XV 

The  Quickening  Kiss 

.      72 

XVI 

The  Holy  Grail     . 

.      76 

XVII 

The  River  and  the  Pool  . 

.      79 

XVIII 

The  Finger-Posts       .     . 

.      83 

xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XIX     The  Two  Planters 86 

XX  Mark  the  Merry    .     .     .     .;     .     .  91 

XXI     Growing .  95 

XXII  Cesar's  Collar      .     ...     .     .  99 

XXIII  The  Quest  op  the  Shaver  Key    .     .  102 

XXIV  God's  Garden    . 106 

XXV  The  Awakening  of  /.ristobulus    .  109 

XXVI     The  Bear's  Tail 113 

XXVII  Are  Your  Feet  Shod?      .     ,.    ,.     .  117 

XXVIII     The  Fairy  Queen 120 

XXIX  Myra  of  the  Magic  Touch    .     .     .  124 

XXX     Sharp  as  a  Needle 127 

XXXI  The  Mission  of  the  Mignonette    .  130 

XXXII     The  Two  .Dogs 135 

XXXIII  The  Poppies  in  the  Corn      ...  139 

XXXIV  Camouflage 142 

XXXV     The  Helpers .  145 

XXXVI  The  Quarrelsome  Gla^nts     ...  149 

XXXVII     The  Pathfinder 152 

XXXVIII     Our  Daily  Bread 154 

XXXIX     The  Red  Rebel 157 


CONTENTS 

xiii 

XT/ 

Glum  or  Glad?       .... 

PAGB 

.     .    160 

XLI 

The  "Wizard  of  the  Woods   ...     , 

.    163 

XTJI 

Playing  the  Game     .     .     .     . 

.    167 

XLIII 

Why  thk  Leaves  Fall    .     .    , 

.     .    172 

XLIV 

Chrysanthemums  ..[.., 

.     .     177 

XLV 

The  Good  Shepherd    .    :.     . 

.     .    180 

XTiVI 

The  Poet  and  the  Potteb    .     , 

.    185 

XLVII 

EoBiN  Redbreast    .     .     .     ■..    • 

.:        .       189 

aiVIII 

The  League  of  Light-givers     , 

.    194 

XLIX 

Lessons  of  the  Snow      .     .     , 

.    199 

L 

The  Stricken  Soldier     .     .     , 

.    205 

LI 

A  Strange  Noel     .     .     .     .     ., 

,.    209 

LII 

The  Man  Whom  Nobody  Loved  . 

.    214 

PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 


Where  truth  in  closest  words  shall  fail, 
Truth  embodied  in  a  tale, 
Shall  enter  in  at  lowly  doors. 

T— 'Tennyson, 


PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE 
PEOPLE 


THE  SECEET  OF  SUCCESS 

SOHEAB  was  just  like  you.  He  wanted  to  make 
a  success  of  his  life.  But  his  parents  being 
dead,  he  had  no  one  to  help  him,  except  the  old 
lady  with  whom  he  lived.  When  he  asked  her  the 
secret  of  success,  she  would  shake  her  head  and 
say,  ^  *  Ah !  that  is  more  than  I  ever  learnt.  No  one 
knows  that,  unless  it  be  the  great  ones,  and  even 
if  they  know,  they  will  not  tell !  * ' 

Sometimes  the  boy  wandered  into  the  Senate, 
and  listened  to  the  wise  men  there,  but  if  they 
knew  the  secret,  they  took  good  care  to  hide  it. 
And  of  all  the  folk  he  asked,  none  could  give  him 
the  answer  he  sought. 

One  night,  as  Sohrab  lay  awake,  thinking  of 
what  he  meant  to  be  when  he  grew  up,  he  was 
startled  by  a  bright  light.  It  may  have  been  the 
moon,  but  as  he  looked,  a  beautiful  lady  stepped 
out  of  the  silvery  beam,  and  said,  **  You  called  me! 
What  can  I  dor' 

15 


16       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

The  little  fellow  was  about  to  tell  lier  she  was 
mistaken,  when  he  remembered  just  in  time  that  it 
is  always  rude  to  contradict  a  lady,  and  so  he 
asked,  ^'But  who  are  youT' 

The  lady  smiled.  ^'I  am  the  Fairy  of  a  child's 
wish.  If  there  is  anything  you  want  more  than 
another,  I  can  give  it  you — ^provided  it  is  for  your 
good." 

**What  a  splendid  chance!"  thought  Sohrab. 
''Did  she  know  the  secret  of  success ?  At  any  rate, 
there  was  no  harm  in  asking  her. ' '  And  so  he  told 
her  what  he  wanted  to  know  more  than  anything 
else  in  the  world. 

The  Fairy  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment.  Then 
she  said,  *'No  one  can  tell  you  that.  You  must 
discover  it  for  yourself ! ' '  Then  she  added,  as  she 
saw  the  disappointment  in  the  boy's  face,  *'But 
I  may  be  able  to  help  you  to  find  the  secret.  Shall 
we  try  together?" 

She  led  the  way  to  the  palace  of  a  prince.  It 
was  a  beautiful  place,  all  granite  and  gold,  and 
numbers  of  servants  were  flitting  about  the  rooms, 
getting  ready  for  the  prince's  return.  Some  were 
arranging  flowers  in  vases.  Others  were  laying  the 
table  in  the  huge  banqueting  hall  with  costly  ves- 
sels of  gold,  while  each  one  seemed  to  know 
exactly  what  he  had  to  do,  and  went  on  with  his 
work  without  paying  any  attention  to  the  Fairy  or 
the  boy. 

**See  anything  of  the  secret?"  she  whispered  in 
Sohrab 's  ear. 

**No,"  replied  he,  **  unless  you  mean  that  one 
must  work  for  the  prince  in  order  to  be  successful 
Is  that  it?" 


THE  SECRET  OF  SUCCESS  17 

**Not  exactly/'  said  the  Fairy,  *'but  let  us  try 
again/' 

They  left  the  hall,  and  round  by  the  stables  some 
grooms  were  breaking-m  a  nmnber  of  Arab  horses 
for  the  prince 's  use.  The  boy  was  delighted  as  he 
watched  the  antics  of  the  horses,  trying  to  throw 
the  men  from  their  backs,  for  they  had  never  been 
ridden  before.  But  when  all  their  efforts  proved 
in  vain,  the  horses  would  come  back  flecked  with 
foam,  but  conquered,  and  the  grooms  could  do 
anything  with  them. 

^*Is  the  secret  here,  do  you  think  T'  asked  the 
Fairy. 

^'I  don't  know,"  said  Sohrab,  ** unless  you  mean 
that  the  boy  who  would  succeed  must  first  learn 
to  obey." 

' '  That  is  quite  true,  and  I  am  glad  you  saw  that 
much,  but  we  have  not  yet  got  the  whole  secret. 
Suppose  we  have  still  another  try." 

He  was  feeling  a  little  discouraged  as  the  Fairy 
led  him  away,  but  it  was  some  comfort  at  least 
to  know  that  she  was  trying  to  help  him.  But 
where  was  she  taking  him  now  ?  They  had  stopped 
at  a  long,  low  building  beyond  the  stables,  and 
when  they  peeped  in,  they  saw  a  man  with  dozens 
and  dozens  of  lamps  that  he  was  trimming  and 
cleaning. 

It  was  the  lamp-room  of  the  palace.  There  were 
small  lamps  and  tall  lamps.  Some  were  of  fine 
wrought  gold,  and  others  of  plain  metal.  And  it 
took  the  man  all  day  getting  them  ready  for 
evening. 

Sohrab  noticed  that  when  the  man  had  filled  and 
finished  a  lamp,  he  would  light  it  and  leave  it 


18        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

burning  until  he  was  ready  with  the  next.  Then 
he  would  light  that,  and  put  out  the  first.  This 
was  the  way  he  tested  them,  to  see  that  they  were 
quite  in  order  for  the  palace. 

'  ^  What  a  fine  array  you  have, ' '  said  the  Fairy. 
*^Will  you  light  them  all,  and  let  my  friend  see 
what  they  can  do  altogether!'' 

The  man  seemed  to  know  the  Fairy,  for  he  at 
once  closed  the  shutters  and  taking  a  taper,  he 
lighted  every  lamp  he  had  ready.  The  dark  room 
blazed  and  flashed  as  though  it  were  the  palace  of 
the  sun  itself! 

**But  has  this  anything  to  do  with  the  secret?'' 
asked  the  boy  of  the  Fairy.  **Even  with  all  the 
lamps  lit,  I  can't  see  anything  of  it!" 

She  smiled  as  though  she  thought  he  were  jest- 
ing, but  in  reality  she  was  sorry  for  him.  ''Let 
us  have  a  chat  together, ' '  she  said,  leading  the  way 
to  the  grounds.  ''Now  tell  me  what  we  have  seen." 

"Well,  first  we  saw  the  prince's  servants  all 
as  busy  as  bees." 

"  Yes, "  the  Fairy  said.    ' '  And  what  next  ? ' ' 

' '  The  horses  trying  to  throw  their  riders — and 
they  couldn't." 

' '  Quite  right !    And  now  ? ' ' 

"All  the  palace  lamps  alight." 

"Then  can't  you  put  the  three  together  and 
guess  what  they  mean  1 ' ' 

"I  wish  I  could,"  said  the  boy. 

"Then  we  must  try  together,"  she  said  encour- 
agingly. "The  servants  intent  on  doing  their 
prince's  bidding  mean  for  you:  Do  right!  The 
riders,  keeping  the  saddle  in  spite  of  all  the  horses 
could  do,  mean:   Hold  tight!     And  the  lamps 


THE  SECRET  OF  SUCCESS  19 

showed  US  that  even  the  tiniest  flame  has  its  part 
in  chasing  away  the  gloom.  That  means:  Be 
bright ! 

^^ Do  Eight!  Hold  Tight!  Be  Bright!  That  is 
the  secret  of  success  as  far  as  mortals  may  know 
it!" 


n 

A  CHAT  ABOUT  THE  CLOCK 

YOU  may  have  heard  people  speak  of  a  clock 
as  a  good  one,  but  do  you  know  what  clock- 
goodness  is!  The  two  things  are  not  quite  the 
same. 

Of  course,  a  clock  has  a  nice  clean  face,  but  then 
yours  is  always  clean,  even  though  it  is  not  kept 


under  a  glass  like  the  clock's.  The  clock  goes  on 
with  its  work  whether  anyone  is  looking  or  not, 
but  you  never  want  watching,  for  you  always  get 
your  lessons  done,  and  you  have  never  to  be  re- 
minded to  do  what  mother  told  you.  The  clock 
keeps  its  hands  out  of  mischief,  and  it  never 
strikes  anyone.  Even  when  it  strikes  the  hour, 
the  hands  do  not  do  the  striking.    But  I  can  tell 

20 


A  CHAT  ABOUT  THE  CLOCK  21 

you  what  they  do.  They  are  very  wonderful  hands, 
for  they  can  teach  us  what  clock-goodness  means. 
The  hands  teach  us  good  behaviour:  Twice  in 
every  twenty-four  hours,  the  hands  point  straight 
up  and  down.  That  means  6  o  'clock,  but  it  means 
something  else.  Can  you  guess  what?  Straight 
up  and  down  means  we  must  be  upright  in  conduct ; 
down-right  in  duty.  We  must  strive  to  do  the 
right,  and  we  must  do  it  with  our  might.  Being 
down-right  in  duty  means  working  hard  at  our 


lessons  and  never  complaining  when  we  have  to 
do  something  that  is  hard  or  unpleasant.  But 
there !    You  are  always  like  the  clock  in  that ! 

Those  hands  teach  us  to  pray,  for  at  the  be- 
ginning of  each  day,  say  one  minute  past  12  a.  m., 
again  at  12  noon,  and  again  at  12  midnight,  the 
clock  puts  its  hands  together  before  its  face  just 
like  a  child  saying  its  prayers.  Is  that  too  often? 
No  one  says  his  prayers  in  the  middle  of  the  day? 
Well,  you  will  find  that  one  brave  man  used  to 
pray  three  times  every  day,  although  the  king  had 
forbidden  it  altogether.    His  name  was  Daniel. 


22         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

Here  is  just  another  thing.  They  teach  ns  how 
to  be  helpful.  Twice  every  twelve  hours — at  9-15 
and  2-45,  you  see  them  stretched  out  as  though 
they  were  saying,  ^  ^  Here  are  two  hands  willing  to 
do  any  good  we  can.  We  are  ready  to  carry  or 
lift,  ready  to  do  a  little  kindness  for  anyone,  ready 
for  any  duty  the  day  may  bring ! ' '  And  this  is  the 
readiness  that  pleases  mother  so  much.  How  de- 
lighted she  would  be  if  you  really  tried  to  help 
her — and  did  it  willingly,  too!    Just  fancy  how 


she  would  feel  if  you  were  to  go  to  her  before  you 
went  out  for  that  game  of  which  you  are  so  fond 
and  said,  **Is  there  anything  you  want  me  to  do 
before  I  goT'  What  a  light  would  come  into  her 
face! 

It  is  worth  trying  to  be  as  good  as  the  clock! 
And  you  can  easily  remember  what  the  clock  says, 
for  it  is : 


Hands  up  and  down RIGHTEOUSNESS 

Hands  together   REVERENCE 

Hands  open  wide READINESS 


A  CHAT  ABOUT  THE  CLOCK     26 

And  as  you  are  now  getting  big,  you  will  know 
that  just  as  the  hands  of  the  clock  depend  on  what 
is  going  on  behind  the  face,  so  our  hands  move 
according  to  the  heart.  *^Keep  thy  heart  with  all 
diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life," 


m 

THE  EOAD  TO  HAPPINESS 

PIEERE  was  a  strange  fellow,  and  no  mistake. 
He  always  found  something  to  grumble  about. 
**A  nice  day!''  one  of  bis  neighbours  might  re- 
mark, but  Pierre  would  reply  something  about  it 
raining  before  night.  Or  if  someone  said  that  the 
crops  were  good,  the  old  man  would  argue  that 
they  might  be  a  lot  better — and  so  on. 

People  got  to  dislike  Pierre  for  this.  **If  there's 
anything  wrong,''  they  said,  *^he's  sure  to  find 
it;  or  if  there  isn't,  then  he'll  make  it."  So  they 
crossed  the  road  when  they  saw  him  coming,  or 
suddenly  remembered  they  were  in  a  hurry.  And 
Pierre  noticed  all  this.  It  made  him  sad,  for 
strange  to  say,  he  wanted  to  be  happy  like  other 
people,  and  he  knew  that  this  trick  of  complaining 
was  costing  him  many  a  friend. 

One  day,  a  stranger  spoke  to  him  as  he  stood 
by  the  gate  of  his  cottage.  *  *  Lovely  view  you  have 
from  here!"  said  the  traveller. 

Pierre  stared  at  him  and  then  replied,  **Well, 
I  can't  say  that  I've  ever  noticed  it  before,  but 
we  do  get  a  terrible  lot  of  fog  in  these  parts. ' ' 

** Never  noticed  it!"  said  the  traveller  in 
astonishment.  *'"Why,  you'll  tell  me  next  you've 
never  noticed  what  a  bonny  lot  of  children  you 
have  about  here.    What  ? ' ' 

24 


THE  ROAD  TO  HAPPINESS  25 

But  Pierre  had  noticed  them  all  right,  though 
he  had  seldom  thought  ahout  their  looks.  All  he 
knew  was  that  they  annoyed  him  with  their  noisy 
play,  and  sometimes  he  wished 

The  stranger  broke  in  on  his  thoughts.  **Say, 
what 's  the  matter  with  you,  my  friend  1  You  must 
excuse  me  saying  so,  but  you  look  about  the  most 
miserable  man  I  Ve  ever  met.  Perhaps  you're  not 
well?'' 

Now  in  the  ordinary  way,  Pierre  would  have 
been  vexed  if  any  of  his  neighbours  had  spoken 
to  him  like  that,  but  there  was  something  about 
this  traveller  that  made  the  old  man's  heart  warm 
to  him,  and  the  result  was  that  Pierre  told  him  all 
his  troubles.  He  was  always  hunting  for  happi- 
ness, but  try  as  he  would  he  could  never  find  it, 
and  so  he  was  gradually  becoming  a  nuisance  to 
everyone  because  of  his  habit  of  grumbling. 

''I  know  the  very  thing,"  said  the  man  with  a 
smile.  *' There's  a  place  over  the  hill  where  they 
cure  people  of  the  miserables.  It  is  called  the 
School  of  Happiness.    Why  don't  you  try  it?" 

That  was  something  new  to  Pierre,  so  next 
morning  he  set  off.  He  found  the  place  without 
much  trouble  and  pulled  the  bell.  After  a  few 
moments,  the  door  was  opened  by  a  jolly-looking 
porter  who  said,  *  *  This  way,  please ! ' ' 

How  did  he  know  what  the  old  man  wanted? 
It  must  have  been  the  look  on  his  face.  Anyway, 
he  led  Pierre  down  a  long,  long  passage  till  they 
came  to  a  door.  **You  are  looking  for  the  secret 
of  happiness,  aren't  you?  Well,  open  that  door 
and  you  '11  discover  it.    Eing  the  bell  inside  when 


26        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

you  are  ready  to  go.  No,  there's  nothing  to  pay!" 
And  with  that,  the  porter  was  gone. 

Open  the  door!  It  was  more  easily  said  than 
done.  Old  Pierre  tried  it.  It  was  locked  and  he 
could  not  see  any  key.  He  felt  along  the  top  ledge 
of  the  door.  Then  he  looked  under  the  mat.  No 
key !  Happy  thought !  Perhaps  there  was  one  on 
his  own  bunch  that  would  do.  So  after  trying 
six  or  seven,  he  found  one  that  fitted.  The  lock 
gave  and  the  door  was  open. 

Wondering  what  it  all  meant,  Pierre  stumbled 
into  a  small  room  flooded  with  sunshine.  But  the 
room  was  quite  bare  except  for  a  long  table  by 
one  wall.  On  this  were  scores  and  scores  of  beau- 
tiful ornaments,  vases  and  bowls.  Some  were  fine 
porcelain,  and  others  cut  glass,  but  he  noticed  that 
every  one  he  picked  up  had  either  a  crack  or  a 
flaw  or  else  a  piece  was  chipped  out. 

He  was  interested,  for  he  was  fond  of  collecting 
old  china  and  glass.  *'I  wonder  what  these  are 
forT'  he  mused.  ''It's  a  pity  they  are  imperfect 
like  this.  They  would  be  valuable  but  for  the 
flaws.  There!"  he  said,  turning  one  of  the  pieces 
with  the  blemish  to  the  back,  ''one  can't  see  any- 
thing wrong  with  that  now.  But  I  mustn  't  waste 
time  over  these.  This  is  not  what  I've  come  for. 
Where's  this  wonderful  secret?" 

Pierre  was  puzzled.  He  looked  along  the  table, 
under  it,  round  it,  on  the  window-sill,  but  no  secret 
could  he  find.  And  then  he  got  vexed.  He  thought 
someone  was  playing  a  prank  on  him,  so  he  de- 
termined to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the 
matter,  but  to  get  back  home. 


THE  ROAD  TO  HAPPINESS  27 

He  strode  to  the  door,  but  to  his  dismay,  he 
found  it  had  swung  shut  behind  him,  and  in  his 
excitement  he  had  left  his  keys  hanging  outside 
in  the  lock.    He  was  a  prisoner ! 

He  rang  the  bell  furiously,  and  after  what 
seemed  quite  a  long  time,  he  heard  footsteps  in 
the  passage.  The  door  opened,  and  a  laughing 
face  looked  in.    '^So  you  have  discovered  it!'' 

*^Look  here!''  said  Pierre,  *' What's  the  mean- 
ing of  this  ?  As  soon  as  I  get  back,  I  shall  tell  the 
police — shutting  people  up  here  and  pretending 
to  teach  them  the  way  of  happiness.  Monstrous, 
I  call  it!" 

*  ^  Just  a  minute !  Just  a  minute ! ' '  replied  the 
porter.  ^^Sit  down  and  I'll  explain  everything. 
Beg  pardon,  of  course  you  can't.  I  forgot  there's 
no  chair.  But  you've  got  the  secret  all  right — 
when  you  like  to  use  it ! " 

Pierre  started  to  stammer  something,  but  the 
porter  took  not  the  slightest  notice  and  went  on, 
*  *  First  of  all,  you  had  to  unlock  the  door  for  your- 
self :  everyone  carries  a  key  somewhere  about  him 
that  will  do  it.  And  then,  wondering  what  it  all 
meant,  you  saw  the  flaws  in  these  ornaments.  Well, 
there's  a  flaw  in  most  things  in  this  world,  or  a 
crack,  and  you  have  to  look  for  the  beauty  that 
is  there  as  well  for  those  who  can  see  it.  Yes,  look 
for  the  beauty — and  turn  the  crack  to  the  back ! ' ' 

*' You  mean  that  is  the  secret?"  broke  in  Pierre. 

**To  be  sure  it  is !  Look  for  the  best  in  people, 
and  for  the  beautiful  things  in  the  world  and  not 
only  will  you  find  them,  but  you  will  find  the  way 
of  happiness  as  well ! ' ' 


28        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

"Don't  look  for  the  flaws  as  you  go  through  life, 
And  even  when  you  find  them, 
It  is  wise  and  kind  to  be  sometimes  blind, 
And  seek  for  the  virtue  behind  them !" 

' '  Well,  I  declare !    Turn  the  crack  to  the  back  I ' ' 
chuckled  Pierre  as  he  trudged  home. 


IV 

THE  HEART  OF  A  HERO 

FRANK  was  not  what  you  would  call  a  hero, 
though  he  badly  wanted  to  he  one.  That  was 
his  greatest  wish!  But  then,  he  lived  in  a  dull, 
factory  town,  with  drab  streets,  and  houses  hud- 
dled together  as  though  they  were  frightened  of 
the  great  works  that  sent  out  black  smoke  just  like 
so  many  dragons. 

Frank  had  no  father,  and  so  to  keep  the  little 
home  going,  his  mother  had  to  take  in  sewing 
from  one  of  the  warehouses.  All  day  long,  and 
sometimes  far  into  the  night,  too,  you  might  have 
heard  the  sewing-machine  buzzing  away  in  the  one 
room  that  was  called  home. 

The  boy  used  to  go  to  school  most  days.  It  was 
not  that  he  liked  it,  but  he  knew  that  he  must  learn 
so  that  he  could  work  for  his  mother  when  he  grew 
up.  There  was  one  thing,  however,  that  he  did 
like  about  school.  He  could  read  there  about  fa- 
mous men  who  had  done  daring  deeds  and  who 
had  left  behind  them  a  great  example.  Drake,  the 
dashing  sailor,  and  Captain  Cook,  Robin  Hood 
and  his  merry  men.  Nelson  and  Wellington,  and 
many  more  were  all  favourites.  But  he  did  not 
stop  with  these — ^pirates  and  bushrangers,  travel* 
lers  and  explorers,  all  delighted  the  boy  wha 
wanted  to  be  a  hero  and  do  something  great. 

29 


30        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

You  can  guess  how  tired  Frank  became  of  the 
tiny  room  in  which  he  lived  when  he  had  read  of 
the  rolling  seas  and  the  towering  mountains,  for 
the  only  thing  he  could  see  from  the  window  was  a 
roof  with  some  chimney-stacks. 

The  truth  is,  he  was  just  a  bit  discontented  with 
his  lot,  aDd  the  work  he  had  to  do  made  him  feel 
that  he  could  never  be  anything  much.  What 
work?  We  must  whisper  this,  for  Frank  would 
not  like  anyone  to  kno^v  of  it.  His  mother  had 
taught  him  to  sew !  And  when  he  got  home  from 
school,  the  poor  old  boy  had  to  set  to  work,  sewing 
the  buttons  on  the  garments  his  mother  had  made. 
It  was  nearly  as  bad  as  carrying  the  bundles  of 
finished  work  back  to  the  factory  and  hearing  the 
other  boys  laughing  at  him  as  they  played  in  the 
street.  He  did  wish  he  could  be  a  hero  and  get 
away  from  it  all ! 

One  day,  he  had  a  great  idea.  There  was  a  min- 
ister who  lived  near  Frank's  school.  He  preached 
in  the  little  chapel  with  the  tin  roof  and  the  queer 
poke-bonnet  windows,  and  Frank  had  heard  that, 
like  your  minister,  he  loved  girls  and  boys,  and 
wanted  to  be  their  friend.  So  Frank  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  and  see  him,  and  ask  him  how  to  make 
dreams  come  true. 

He  was  shown  into  a  room  with  rows  and  rows 
of  books  all  standing  straight  like  policemen  on 
parade  and  looking  very  severe.  *'I  guess  there's 
something  in  those  books  about  Robin  Hood  and 
all  those  fellows,''  said  the  boy  to  himself.  But 
he  had  not  time  to  think  about  them  any  more,  for 
just  then  in  walked  the  minister. 

Frank  saw  that  he  was  such  a  kindly  old  gentle- 


THE  HEART  OF  A  HERO  31 

man  that  lie  told  him  at  once  all  about  his  home. 


the  work  he  had  to  do,  and  the  plans  he  had 
formed,  and  he  went  on,  ^*You  see,  sir,  I  don't 
mnch  care  what  it  is,  whether  I'm  a  pirate  or  an 
outlaw,  a  soldier  or  a  sailor,  but  I've  got  to  be  a 
hero ! ' '  Then  he  stopped.  What  would  the  min- 
ister think  of  him,  talking  like  that  1 

The  old  gentleman  did  not  laugh.  Instead,  he 
just  smiled  and  said,  * '  Quite  right,  my  boy !  But 
you  have  got  the  idea  wrong.  The  answer  to  your 
question.  Where  can  I  be  a  hero  and  how  1  is  in  the 
very  word,  only  you  must  turn  it  round.  A  hero  ? 
— 0,  here!  You  can  be  heroic  by  doing  your  duty 
like  a  man,  and  helping  your  mother  just  where 
you  are ! ' ' 

Frank's  face  fell.  This  was  not  the  answer  he 
expected,  but  his  friend  went  on,  ^^You  have  the 
hero  head ;  what  you  need  is  the  hero  heart.  Men 
show  their  bravery  by  fighting  and  all  that,  and 
you  must  fight  against  sin  and  everything  that  is 
wrong.  I  want  you  to  be  too  much  of  a  hero  to 
shirk  your  duty  because  it  means  something  you 
don't  like.  Think  how  heroic  your  mother  must 
be,  working  so  hard  for  you.  You  must  show  her 
that  you,  too,  can  be  brave  about  those  bundles, 
that  you  are  hero  enough  to  help  her.  It  is  ever 
so  much  better  than  grieving  her  by  grumbling 
because  you  can't  have  just  what  you  want.  .  .  . 
And  look  here !  You  must  be  a  real  hero  not  by 
going  away  to  some  foreign  land  to  do  great 
things,  but  by  doing  them  here ! ' ' 

Of  course,  Frank  was  greatly  disappointed.  He 
had  thought  that  the  good  man  would  show  him 
the  way  at  once  to  make  his  dreams  come  true. 


32       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

But  when  his  mother  got  back  from  the  warehouse 
that  night,  what  do  you  think  she  found?  The 
table  was  laid  for  tea,  and  an  eager  voice  said  as 
well  as  it  could,  considering  the  piece  of  bread 
and  butter  that  was  in  the  way,  for  Frank  had 
cut  a  chunk  just  to  help  him  to  wait,  ^^I  say, 
Mother,  you  look  tired !  I  ^m  doing  the  lion 's  share 
of  the  work  after  tea,  while  you  rest  a  bit!'' 

She  did  not  know  what  it  meant,  for  she  had  no 
idea  where  Frank  had  called  on  his  way  home 
from  school,  but  when  she  heard  him  humming: 

"I  want  to  be  a  hero  and  bravely  take  my  stand 
Wherever  duty  calls  me,  or  work  awaits  my  hand," 

she  felt  like  joining  in. 

After  all,  I  tliink  the  old  minister  was  right. 
Don't  youf  The  hero-head  is  good,  but  the  hero- 
heart  is  better ! 


A  TALE  OF  A  TOY-SHOP 

TBIS  toy-shop  was  a  favourite  place.  The  chil- 
dren who  had  plenty  of  pennies  knew  it  well, 
but  those  who  had  none  seemed  to  know  it  better 
for  they  would  flatten  their  noses  against  the  win- 
dows, and  with  their  grubby  fingers  point  out  the 
toys  that  belonged  to  them! 

Now  in  one  window  were  two  fierce-looking  ani- 
mals with  brown  shaggy  coats.  One  was  a  bear 
named  Teddy;  the  other,  a  dog  called  Tubby  and 
he  had  great  rolling  eyes  that  made  him  look  ^ery 
wise.  They  both  liked  to  be  admired  by  the  chil- 
dren, but  I  do  not  think  it  was  good  for  either  of 
them,  for  it  made  them  rather  vain  and  a  tiny  bit 
quarrelsome. 

Well,  one  evening,  just  before  closing  time,  the 
shopkeeper  had  all  the  things  taken  out,  so  that 
the  window  could  be  cleaned  and  rearranged,  and 
the  toys  were  laid  on  one  of  the  counters. 

This  greatly  annoyed  both  the  bear  and  the 
dog.  It  meant  they  might  lose  the  place  they  had 
enjoyed  in  the  front  of  the  window,  and  the  chil- 
dren would  admire  them  no  more.  So  as  the  rivals 
sat  there,  side  by  side,  on  the  counter,  anyone 
could  see  that  trouble  was  brewing. 

The  shop  was  locked  up,  and  everything  was 


34        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

quiet  for  a  time,  until  the  bear  said  crossly,  *^This 
is  all  your  fault!''  (You  are  never  as  cross  as  a 
bear,  are  you?) 

*^What  do  you  meanT'  asked  the  dog. 

^^  Well,  you  call  yourself  the  friend  of  man,  but 
no  one  seems  to  want  you  or  you  would  have  been 
sold.  I  don't  believe  you  are  anything  of  the 
sort!" 

Now  if  the  dog  had  been  as  sensible  as  girls 
and  boys  are  when  their  school-mates  say  unkind 
things,  he  would  have  taken  no  notice.  At  any 
rate,  he  ought  to  have  known  that  it  takes  two  to 
make  a  quarrel.  But  he  was  no  better  than  the 
bear,  and  he  retorted,  ^'I  don't  call  myself  the 
king  of  the  forest,  anyway,  like  you  do.  Who  gave 
you  the  right  to  a  name  like  that?  Why,  you 
growl  if  anyone  touches  you ! ' ' 

*'What  right  have  I?  Well,  imagine  that!" 
answered  the  bear.  ^ '  Do  you  know  that  I  can  climb 
high  trees,  and  that  when  I  take  my  foes  in  my 
arms  they  cry  for  mercy!  Everyone  is  afraid  of 
me.  But  you — why  you  run  after  the  first  one  that 
whistles  you.  Compare  your  paltry  paws  with 
mine !    I  am  king  of  the  beasts ! " 

*^0r  else  a  beast  of  a  king,"  replied  the  dog. 

With  that,  the  bear  seized  Tubby  in  a  great 
hug.  They  snapped  and  snarled,  grunted  and 
growled,  sss  they  struggled  together  upon  the 
counter,  while  the  rest  of  the  toys  looked  on  with 
scorn  and  amusement. 

Then  something  happened.  In  their  anger,  both 
animals  had  forgotten  how  narrow  the  counter 
was,  and  suddenly  they  rolled  over  and  fell  down, 
down,  down,  with  a  terrible  bump  to  the  floor. 


A  TALE  OF  A  TOY-SHOP  35 

But  that  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  It  had  been 
raining  heavily  that  afternoon,  and  a  lady  who 
wanted  a  doll  for  a  sick  child,  had  stood  her  ■um- 
brella against  that  counter,  so  that  a  nice  pool  had 
formed  there. 

The  bear  and  the  dog  fell  right  into  this  with 
a  mighty  splash!  They  were  wet  through,  and 
having  hurt  their  limbs  as  well  as  their  pride 
neither  felt  like  quarrelling  any  more.  Teddy  did 
not  look  much  like  a  king,  and  Tubby  was  not 
the  kind  of  friend  you  would  have  cared  to  own. 

As  they  lay  there,  they  could  hear  the  other  toys 
talking.  The  sailor-boy  was  telling  the  little  girl 
doll  in  the  pink  frock  what  he  thought.  **It's  a 
pity  that  those  who  have  such  a  good  opinion  of 
themselves  cannot  behave  like  sensible  mortals," 
he  said.  And  she  laughingly  replied,  **0h,  it  is 
always  the  way.  Those  who  pretend  they  are 
better  than  others  behave  worse.  Teddy  is  a  bit 
of  a  beast,  but  Tubby  ought  to  have  known  better. '' 

The  two  culprits  felt  very  miserable,  and  you 
may  be  sure  they  were  glad  when  morning  came, 
and  the  shop  door  opened.  But  when  the  man  saw 
Teddy  and  Tubby  lying  on  the  floor,  looking  so 
dirty,  wet,  and  doleful,  he  said  angrily,  *' Hello, 
what's  this?  Who  is  going  to  buy  these  things 
nowT'  He  grasped  one  in  each  hand,  and  turning 
to  one  of  his  assistants,  he  said,  *' Just  put  these 
by  the  fire,  please.  We  must  dry  them  and  see 
what  we  can  do. ' ' 

After  a  very  hot  time,  the  two  animals  felt  more 
ashamed  than  ever.  ^^This  comes  of  boasting,'' 
said  the  bear.    *  *  Yes, ' '  replied  the  other,  * '  but  it 's 


36        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

all  my  fault.  Let  *s  be  friends  again !  ^ '  And  when 
no  one  was  looking  they  shook  hands. 

Then  the  shopkeeper  placed  them  side  by  side 
again,  and  put  a  ticket  over  their  heads  that  pro- 
claimed their  silly  conduct,  for  it  read: 

SHOP  SOILED— GREATLY  REDUCED. 

And  indeed  they  were.  There  is  nothing  that 
soils  the  heart  and  reduces  our  happiness  like  ill- 
temper,  and  though  the  two  animals  are  good 
friends  now,  each  would  say  if  you  asked  him : 

"To  folk  be  kind,  to  faults  be  blind, 
And  never  say,  Fm  best  1" 


VI 

THE  A.  0.  T.  a 

IT  was  one  evening  during  the  great  war,  that 
just  as  Kenneth  was  going  to  bed,  a  letter 
came,  and  as  it  was  from  his  big  brother  at  the 
front,  mother  let  him  stay  till  it  was  read  aloud: 
Then  he  was  hurried  off,  much  against  his  will, 
for  it  was  getting  late. 

However,  it  was  a  good  thing  he  had  to  hurry, 
for  Kenneth  had  only  just  closed  his  eyes  when 
the  Angel  of  The  Children  came. 

*'Are  you  reaUy  the  A.  0.  T.  C.T'  Kenneth 
asked. 

**What  ever  is  thatT'  laughed  the  Angel. 

"Why,  it  means  the  Angel  of  The  Children,  and 
my  brother  always  puts  letters  like  that  instead 
of  names.  We  have  heard  from  him  to-night,  and 
he  says  something  about  the  E.  A.  M.  C.  and  the 
A.  0.  T.  C' 

"Then  I  suppose  I  am  the  A.  0.  T.  C.,''  replied 
his  visitor.  "But  can  you  guess  why  I  have 
come?  I  would  like  to  know  what  you  are  going 
to  be!'' 

"Well,  I  want  to  be  a  soldier,''  said  the  boy. 

The  Angel  smiled.  "Just  what  I  thought!  Then 
let  us  go." 

They  came  to  a  lonely  place  among  the  hills, 

37 


38        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

where  a  number  of  rough-looking  men  sat  round 
a  fire.  Kenneth  had  never  seen  anyone  half  as 
fierce  as  they  were,  but  he  did  not  tell  the  Angel 
that! 

*  ^  These, ' '  said  the  messenger,  *  ^  are  the  foes  you 
must  fight !    Keep  quiet  and  listen ! ' ' 

A  great  stout  man  was  saying,  *^But  IVe  al- 
ready told  you,  the  boy  is  going  to  obey  me.'' 

^^Is  he?''  interrupted  another,  who  was  a  most 
disagreeable-looking  fellow  with  limbs  all  twisted 
and  bent.  ^ '  That  lad  belongs  to  me,  so  leave  him 
alone.  Why,  he 's  been  on  my  side  for  quite  a  long 
time." 

^'Nonsense!"  a  third  put  in.  *'You  are  both 
wrong,  for  that  particular  young  gentleman 
agreed  to  enter  my  service  months  ago. ' ' 

The  last  speaker  was  lying  on  the  ground  lazily, 
and  Kenneth  noticed  what  an  untidy,  dirty  fellow 
he  looked.  His  hair  was  long  and  matted.  His 
nails  were  like  talons,  and  his  clothes  were  all  torn 
and  muddy. 

As  the  rest  of  the  company  quarrelled  over  the 
mysterious  boy,  the  Angel  beckoned  him  away. 

**Who  are  those  horrible  men,  and  why  have 
I  to  fight  them?"  the  boy  asked  as  soon  as  they 
were  a  few  yards  off. 

^  ^  Don 't  you  know  ? ' '  The  Angel  looked  troubled. 
'  ^  That  stout  man  is  Greed ;  the  other,  all  twisted 
and  deformed,  is  Spite,  sometimes  called  Old 
Crossface;  and  that  untidy  fellow  on  the  ground 
is  Laziness.  The  others  are  all  bad  habits  of  one 
kind  or  another.  You  heard  them  claiming  a 
certain  boy.    The  boy  is  you." 


THE  A.  O.  T.  C.  39 

**I'm  afraid  I  can  never  conquer  them  all/' 
sighed  the  boy. 

*' Afraid f  And  you  a  soldier?  Look!  the  day 
is  breaking ;  we  must  hasten. ' ' 

They  came  to  a  castle  which  shone  in  the  sun 
as  though  it  were  made  of  gold,  and  the  Angel 
led  the  way  through  the  gates,  past  the  hall,  up  a 
wide  staircase  till  they  paused  at  a  door  over 
which  Kenneth  read: 

*  ^  Take  unto  you  the  whole  armour  of  God. ' ' 

It  was  the  armoury.  Here  there  were  hundreds 
of  shields,  and  swords,  helmets  and  coats  of  mail, 
and  the  boy's  eyes  danced  with  delight  when  he 
saw  what  the  Angel  was  doing. 

From  the  various  shelves  and  racks,  he  was 
taking  out  an  equipment — a  suit  of  armour,  a  hel- 
met just  the  right  size  for  a  boy.  And  after  Ken- 
neth had  donned  these  at  the  Angel's  bidding, 
the  A.  0.  T.  C.  buckled  a  sword  round  the  boy's 
waist,  and  put  a  shield  in  his  hand. 

*'I  say,  that's  fine!  Now  I  can  fight,"  he  ex- 
claimed.   ^  *  Good-bye ! ' ' 

^^One  moment!"  said  the  Angel.  *^ There  is 
something  else  I  want  to  show  you." 

He  guided  the  boy  along  the  gallery  where 
countless  pictures  hung,  and  Kenneth  thought  he 
would  never  stop,  for  he  found  it  rather  awkward 
to  walk  in  his  armour.  But  at  last,  they  stood 
before  a  great  canvas.  It  showed  a  king  in  golden 
armour,  mounted  on  a  snow-white  steed,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  number  of  knights  clad  in  the  same 
way. 

*  *  You  know  who  that  is  ?  "  the  Angel  asked.  *  *  He 
is  your  Leader,  and  those  knights  who  follow  Him 


40        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

are  pledged  to  fight  against  greed,  ill-temper,  and 
every  sinful  habit.    "Will  you  follow  Him  toof 

Kenneth  looked  at  the  figure  in  silence  for  a 
moment.  Then  drawing  his  sword,  he  saluted 
just  as  he  had  seen  the  Lifeguards  do.  *'Yes!  I 
promise.  I  will  try  to  follow  Him  and  fight  for 
Him  every  day ! ' ' 

And  with  a  glad  smile,  the  A.  0.  T.  C.  had  van- 
ished. 


vn 

THE  FEBRUAEY  FACE 

HAVE  you  ever  seen  anyone  with  a  February 
face?  What,  you  do  not  know  what  it  is! 
Well,  in  one  of  Shakespeare's  stories,  that  you 
will  read  when  you  grow  older,  there  is  a  man  who 
meets  another  who  is  looking  very  cross,  and  he 
says: 

"Why,  what's  the  matter 
That  you  have  such  a  February  face, 
So  full  of  frost,  of  storm,  and  cloudiness?" 

There  was  once  a  little  fellow  who  was  travel- 
ling to  this  earth.  The  journey  was  a  long  one. 
It  took  him  31  days,  and  he  had  no  idea  that 
it  was  so  far.  So  you  can  guess  that  he  was  nearly 
as  impatient  to  reach  his  destination  as  you  are 
to  get  to  the  next  school  holiday. 

When  his  train  arrived,  it  was  quite  early  in 
the  morning.  In  fact,  it  was  not  yet  light.  And  he 
was  as  cross  as  could  be.  I  have  noticed  that  it 
is  generally  first  thing  in  the  morning,  just  when 
we  get  up,  that  most  of  us  are  a  little — ^never  mind, 
we  will  let  that  pass. 

When  the  traveller  came  out  of  the  station,  the 
street  was  deserted.  The  lamps  blinked  very 
sleepily  at  him,  as  though  they  had  just  woke  up, 

41 


42         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

and  the  only  person  he  could  see  was  a  policeman. 
So  he  took  his  courage  in  both  hands  and  went  up 
to  him. 

*' Excuse  me,  officer.  Are  you  what  they  call 
a  'speciaPr' 

*^No!  my  little  man,  I'm  not.  Are  youf  he 
added,  for  he  was  fond  of  a  bit  of  fun. 

^^In  a  way  I  am.  That  is,  I  am  some  one  of 
special  importance.  And  by  the  way,  please  do 
not  ^little  man'  me,''  replied  the  traveller,  trying 
to  look  very  tall. 

^  ^  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir, ' '  said  the  officer,  salut- 
ing.   ^  ^  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  T ' 

**I  was  wondering  if  you  had  seen  anyone  wait- 
ing for  me — a  crowd,  for  instance.  The  fact  is, 
I  was  expecting  to  be  met  by  quite  a  large  number 
of  friends.    My  brother  was,  I  understand." 

The  policeman  looked  very  thoughtful.  Then 
he  said,  thinking  that  perhaps  this  was  some  royal 
personage,  ^^Who  might  your  brother  be,  sir?" 
The  policeman  thought  this  was  rather  a  clever 
way  of  asking  the  traveller  who  he  was. 

^'My  brother's  name  is  Jan.  He  came  here 
about  a  month  ago,  and  I  heard  that  he  had  a  great 
reception.  Most  of  the  town  turned  out  to  greet 
him,  and  some  people  even  stayed  up  half  the 
night  to  see  him.  But  there's  no  one  to  meet  me. 
I  think  it 's  a  shame ! ' ' 

*^Well,"  remarked  the  policeman,  *^I  think  I 
know  who  you  are  now.  Your  brother  did  have 
a  fair  number  of  people  to  meet  him.  Not  as 
many  as  I  have  seen  on  some  occasions,  but  don't 
you  trouble!" 

*^I  am  not  troubling,"  said  the  other,  **at  least, 


THE  FEBRUARY  FACE  43 

not  about  that.  But  I  am  every  bit  as  important 
as  be,  and  yet  no  one  seems  to  bother  about  me 
or  my  luggage.  I  '11  tell  you  who  I  am.  My  name 's 
Feb  Ru  Ary.    Ever  heard  of  me  before  ? ' ' 

**The  name's  familiar,  but  it  sounds  a  bit  for- 
eign.   You  are  not  an  alien,  are  you!" 

*^ Rather  not!''  replied  the  other  angrily. 

The  policeman  felt  sorry  for  the  lonely  little 
fellow,  so  he  said,  *'If  I  were  you,  sir,  I'd  just 
wait  about  a  bit.  Perhaps  somebody  will  turn 
up." 

While  Feb.  waited,  he  became  more  miserable 
and  cross  than  ever.  I  have  often  found  that  the 
more  we  think  about  unpleasant  things,  the  bigger 
they  seem.  Soon  he  was  sulking  so  much  that  it 
became  quite  cloudy,  and  the  more  he  thought  of 
his  grievances,  the  worse  he  felt,  till  a  storm 
arose,  and  a  chill  wind  with  a  nip  of  frost  in  it 
swept  across  the  sky. 

Two  men  who  were  passing  on  their  way  to 
work  remarked,  *  ^  It 's  cloudy  and  cold !  Well,  you 
can't  expect  anything  better  from  old  February, 
can  you?" 

Do  you  know  anyone  with  a  February  face? 
Ever  look  in  the  mirror  when  you  feel  cross?  I 
know  that  when  some  people  feel  slighted,  they 
brood  over  their  wrongs,  instead  of  making  the 
best  of  things.  So  the  clouds  form,  and  the  storm 
rises,  and  a  chill  frost  blights  everything,  and  the 
earth  is  sad.  And  it  is  just  because  like  poor  old 
Feb.,  they 

F  ret  about  what  happens, 

E  nvy  others  who  seem  better  off, 

B  light  everyone's  happiness  by  getting  cross. 


44       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

And  so  they  get  a  February  face.  But  if  you  want 
to  be  bright  and  happy,  then 

F  orget  the  disagreeables, 

E  nter  into  all  you  do — lessons  or  play — gladly 

B  anish  all  bitter  thoughts  at  once. 

Then  your  face  will  be  bright  with  the  happiness 
within,  and  people  will  be  glad  to  see  you  coming 
their  way. 

"For  every  day  is  a  fresh  beginning; 
Every  mom  is  the  world  made  new." 


vni 

THE  SUNBEAM 

ISN'T  it  time  we  had  a  holiday?"  asked  the 
sunbeams  one  morning  in  their  home  high  above 
the  world.  * '  We  have  been  on  duty  long  enough, ' ' 
said  one,  **and  now  that  the  flowers  are  over  and 
the  harvests  in,  I  don't  see  why  we  should  be 
always  at  it." 

*^ Quite  right!"  chimed  in  the  others.  **We 
won't  shine  again  till  we  feel  like  it.  People  don't 
think  enough  about  what  we  do,  so  let  them  miss 
us  awhile." 

**I  don't  want  to  be  disagreeable,"  said  one  little 
beam  that  had  been  standing  apart,  *'but  I  think 
you  are  wrong.  People  do  appreciate  what  we  do. 
I  know  they  are  glad  to  see  us,  and  if  the  flowers 
are  over  that  is  all  the  more  reason  why  we  should 
try  to  brighten  up  the  world.  No  holiday  for 
me!" 

*'A11  right,"  said  the  rest.  '^Offyougo!  We'll 
see  who  has  the  best  time." 

Like  an  airman  making  for  earth.  Sunbeam 
came  swiftly  travelling  through  clouds  and  smoke 
till  he  reached  a  grey  and  gloomy  city.  It  was 
quite  early,  but  the  people  who  were  going  to  the 
mills  seemed  glad  to  see  him,  and  he  thought  one 
of  them  nodded  in  quite  a  friendly  way. 

45 


46        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

**Now  that  IVe  come,  what  am  I  going  to  do 
with  myself  r'  thought  he.  *'I  haven't  got  very- 
long,  and  I  want  to  do  someone  a  good  turn  to- 
day.'' 

As  he  looked  about,  he  noticed  that  right  op- 
posite stood  a  number  of  houses  that  had  once 
seen  better  days.  The  street  was  shabby  and  the 
people  that  passed  looked  poor. 

** Wonder  if  there's  anyone  about  here  who 
wants  cheering  up?"  He  peered  through  a  win- 
dow, and  there  on  a  wretched  bed  lay  a  little  fellow 
with  such  pale  cheeks.  Sunbeam  saw  that  the 
room  was  bare  and  comfortless  and  he  felt  very 
sorry  for  the  sick  boy,  so  he  hopped  on  the  bed. 

The  little  chap's  face  brightened  up  at  once, 
and  they  had  a  fine  game  together,  for  the  boy's 
wasted  fingers  were  trying  to  get  hold  of  Sun- 
beam, as  though  he  wanted  to  keep  the  golden  bar 
of  light  forever.  And  the  beam  danced  and  dodged 
till  the  boy  laughed  right  out  at  his  antics.  No 
matter  how  swiftly  the  hand  moved,  the  beam  was 
always  too  clever  and  it  escaped. 

At  last  it  was  time  for  Sunbeam  to  say  good- 
bye. You  know,  sunbeams  can  never  stay  very 
long  in  the  same  place.  But  it  made  the  beam's 
heart  glad  to  see  the  colour  in  the  boy's  thin 
cheeks,  and  to  hear  his  merry  laugh. 

*^Well,  good-bye  for  the  present,"  he  said  to 
the  boy.  And  as  he  got  out  into  the  street,  he  said 
to  himself,  '  ^  That  is  a  good  beginning  for  my  day. 
Now  I  wonder  what's  next?" 

After  a  time.  Sunbeam  found  himself  before  a 
lot  of  warehouses  and  offices.  They  looked  as 
though  they  had  never  seen  the  sun,  for  they  were 


THE  SUNBEAM  4T 

so  dark  and  grey,  but  that  was  all  the  more  reason 
why  Sunbeam  should  spend  a  little  time  there  if 
he  could  do  any  good.  But  could  he  I  That  was- 
the  question. 

Looking  through  a  keyhole,  Sunbeam  saw  a  man 
sitting  at  a  desk  and  looking  very  unhappy.  He 
was  resting  his  head  on  his  hand,  and  he  said  to 
himself,  ^*  Things  seem  to  be  going  from  bad  to 
worse." 

Something  must  have  been  troubling  him.  "What 
it  was  I  do  not  know,  but  that  was  enough  for 
Sunbeam.  With  a  bit  of  a  wriggle,  he  found  that 
he  could  get  through  the  keyhole,  and  he  mounted 
the  desk,  looking  up  into  the  man's  face,  and 
waiting  for  him  to  notice. 

**I  wish  I  could  cheer  him  up,"  said  Sunbeam. 
And  just  at  that  moment,  the  man  opened  his  eyes, 
and  leaping  off  his  stool,  he  said,  ^'What's  the  use 
of  looking  on  the  dark  side  like  this?  Why,  I  de- 
clare, the  sun's  shining.  I  must  pull  myself  to- 
gether and  have  another  try ! ' ' 

He  started  hurrying  about  his  office,  and  got  out 
his  ledgers,  while  Sunbeam  sat  there  enjoying  the 
fun.  Before  he  left,  though  you  will  hardly  be- 
lieve it,  the  man  was  humming  a  tune. 

''Good  turn  No.  2,"  chuckled  Sunbeam  slipping 
out  into  the  street.  * '  Say,  I  'm  having  a  great  time 
to-day!  I'm  jolly  glad  I  came.  What's  next,  I 
wonder?" 

While  he  was  making  up  his  mind  which  way  to 
go,  he  heard  some  boys  shouting,  and  there  a  dog 
came  tearing  along  the  street  like  mad.  Its  tongue 
was  hanging  out,  while  its  tail  was  so  far  between 
its  legs  with  fright  that  it  was  almost  tripping 


48       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

him.  And  these  lads  were  chasing  him  with  stones 
and  shouting  till  he  was  scared  out  of  his  wits. 

^^What  should  be  doneT'  Sunbeam  suddenly- 
thought  of  a  plan.  He  hid  round  the  corner  where 
the  dog  had  run,  and  just  as  the  first  boy  came 
up,  out  flashed  the  beam  into  his  eyes.  He  was 
dazzled.  He  stopped.  The  others  stopped,  too, 
to  see  what  was  the  matter — and  the  dog  had  got 
away! 

** Cheerio!'*  cried  Sunbeam.  **I  never  guessed 
there  was  so  much  fun  in  doing  good  turns  for  peo- 
ple.   I  wish  I  could  stay  here  forever !*' 

That  was  impossible.  It  was  getting  late.  Peo- 
ple were  now  going  home  from  work,  and  Sunbeam 
had  to  get  back  too.  Yet  as  he  danced  along  the 
pavement  he  noticed  how  the  tired  faces  lighted 
up  at  the  sight  of  him.  And  when  he  met  his 
friends  after  sunset  he  said,  ^^Well,  what  kind  of 
a  day  have  you  all  had?  Vve  had  the  time  of  my 
lifeP' 


IX 

THE  QUEER  COMRADE 

THERE  was  great  excitement  in  the  city. 
Groups  of  people  were  talking  in  the  market- 
place, and  while  the  beards  of  the  talkers  wagged, 
the  eyes  of  the  listeners  opened  wider  and  wider. 

*^But  I  know,''  said  one  man.  *'I  saw  the  men 
with  my  own  eyes.  They  were  measuring  and 
planning  out  there,  and  they  told  me  that  the  king 
himself  was  coming  to  live  here. " 

Now  the  king  of  that  land  had  reigned  long, 
but  few  had  seen  him,  for  he  seldom  left  the  cap- 
ital. So  the  news  that  he  was  actually  coming  to 
live  in  this  city  made  a  great  stir,  and  sure  enough, 
before  many  weeks  had  passed,  huge  wagons  of 
materials  and  thousands  of  masons,  carpenters 
and  labourers  arrived. 

The  months  went  by.  The  walls  began  to  ap- 
pear, and  after  a  long  time,  at  last  the  palace 
stood  complete.  It  was  built  of  purest  marble. 
Its  columns  were  of  costly  stone,  and  the  gates 
shone  like  gold,  while  the  magnificent  furniture 
that  came,  the  rich  carpets  from  India  and  Persia, 
the  Arab  chargers  for  the  king,  and  the  gold  coach 
for  his  use,  almost  took  the  people's  breath  away. 

One  day,  the  word  went  round  that  the  king  had 
come.  No  one  had  seen  him  arrive,  but  a  man 
whose  brother  knew  another  man  who  had  a  friend 

49 


50        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

at  court  said  so,  and  of  course,  it  was  bound  to  be 
true.  But  while  they  were  talking  about  it,  a 
herald  in  gorgeous  uniform  rode  into  the  square, 
and  blowing  a  mighty  blast  on  his  bugle,  he  made 
a  proclamation : 

"The  King  has  come!  Long  live  the  King!  Be  it 
known  unto  you  all  that  if  any  man  has  a  cause  to  plead, 
if  he  has  been  wronged  by  any,  or  if  he  has  charges  to 
meet  that  he  cannot  pay,  the  coffers  of  the  king  are  open, 
for  his  heart  is  tender  towards  his  people!  Long  live 
the  king!" 

The  herald  rode  on,  but  the  crowd  lingered  dis- 
cussing his  words  with  eagerness. 

*^What  does  it  mean?  It  can't  be  true,''  said 
they.    *  *  No  king  ever  did  that. ' ' 

Some  of  them  clustered  about  the  palace  rail- 
ings to  see  if  anyone  went  in,  but  not  a  single  man 
took  the  king  at  his  word,  and  all  the  time  the 
sovereign  sat,  solitary  and  sad,  in  his  new  home. 

It  was  soon  after  all  this  that  a  stranger  ap- 
peared in  the  city.  The  workmen  were  still  build- 
ing houses  for  the  courtiers,  so  the  stranger  got 
work  as  a  labourer.  He  had  to  carry  bricks  and 
mortar  up  long  ladders,  and  though  it  was  hard 
work  and  the  day  was  long,  yet  he  kept  at  it,  and 
because  he  was  so  cheery,  everyone  liked  him 
immensely. 

When  the  buildings  were  finished,  the  stranger 
got  work  in  the  kitchens  of  the  barracks.  The 
task  he  had  there  was  anything  but  pleasant  but 
Jie  did  not  seem  to  mind,  and  often  enough,  when 
the  soldiers  of  the  king's  bodyguard  came  off  duty, 
ithey  would  sit  and  chat  with  the  stranger  while  he 


THE  QUEER  COMRADE  51 

scoured  the  greasy  pans.  In  fact,  it  was  the  sol- 
diers who  gave  him  his  nickname,  as  soldiers  do. 
When  they  saw  him  busy  with  his  pots  and  pans, 
and  heard  him  singing  at  his  work,  they  called 
him  **The  Queer  Comrade." 

His  work  done  for  the  day,  there  was  nothing 
the  stranger  liked  better  than  to  play  with  the 
children.  He  would  hoist  the  little  ones  on  his 
back  and  be  their  horse  or  their  camel,  whichever 
they  liked,  and  of  course,  while  folk  thought  him 
very  strange  they  could  not  help  but  admire  his 
kind  ways  and  his  happy  smile. 

The  poor  travellers  who  stayed  for  a  night  or 
so  in  the  shabby  part  of  the  town  where  the 
stranger  lived,  said  he  was  ^^one  of  the  best." 
You  can  guess  why.  He  was  very  handy  with  his 
fingers,  and  he  would  help  to  mend  their  shoes  or 
patch  a  torn  garment,  while  if  a  homeless  one 
were  in  trouble,  the  stranger  was  always  the  first 
to  sympathise,  for  he  was  homeless  too.  But  why? 
Who  was  he  ?  That  was  the  very  question  people 
were  asking. 

**I  say,  who  are  youT'  asked  a  man  one  night, 
for  he  fancied  that  the  stranger  had  once  been 
better  off. 

The  other  only  laughed  and  said,  **Well,  they 
call  me  ^The  Queer  Comrade'." 

Time  went  on.  The  stranger  disappeared  as 
quietly  as  he  came,  and  the  gossips  were  now  say- 
ing :  *  *  That  stranger,  *  The  Queer  Comrade, '  is  not 
a  poor  labourer  after  all !    It  is  the  king  himself. " 

Because  the  people  would  not  go  to  him  with 
their  troubles,  feeling  afraid  of  his  royal  state,, 
he  had  come  to  them.    His  love  was  too  great  for 


52       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

tlie  palace  walls  to  shut  in,  and  so  he  had  lived 
among  them  to  show  them  how  dear  they  were  to 
his  heart.  So  from  that  time  forth,  everyone 
learned  to  love  and  trust  the  king  even  though  he 
was  unlike  any  other  monarch  who  had  ever 
reigned. 
Can  you  guess  his  name?    Was  it  Christ! 


X 

THE  FAIRIES  IN  THE  FIRE 

YOU  have  often  seen  the  fairies  in  the  fire? 
I  thought  so !  But  there  was  once  a  man  who 
did  not  believe  in  them  at  all,  nor  in  all  the  noble 
and  beautiful  things  that  are  in  the  world  if  only 
we  look  for  them. 

He  sat  by  the  fire  one  night,  feeling  very  tired 
and  lonely.  And  as  he  looked  into  the  glowing 
coals,  some  of  the  old  stories  his  mother  used  to 
tell  him  about  the  strange  elves  in  the  fire  came 
back  to  him. 

''Ah,  well!'*  he  sighed;  ''that  was  a  long  time 
ago!    There  are  no  such  things  as  fairies  now!" 

"Aren't  there?''  asked  a  merry  little  voice. 
And  the  jolliest  fellow  he  had  ever  seen  jumped 
right  out  of  the  fire. 

He  was  all  red.  He  had  red  hair,  red  cheeks, 
red  hands,  and  a  suit  of  the  ruddiest  hue.  And 
standing  between  the  poker  and  the  tongs,  he 
looked  roguishly  up  into  the  man's  face. 

"You  do  look  down,''  remarked  the  fairy  after 
a  moment  or  two. 

"Of  course !  I  had  to,  or  I  wouldn't  have  seen 
you." 

"I  didn't  mean  that,"  answered  the  little  chap. 
"You  look  unhappy,  kind  of  miserable.  Seeing 
me  hasn't  done  it,  has  it?    I  don't  look  sad." 

53 


64f       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

'*No,"  said  the  man,  smiling  in  spite  of  him- 
self. * *I  can 't  say  you  look  sad.  On  the  contrary, 
you  look  rather  merry  and — ^bright!*' 

*  *  Splendid ! ' '  cried  the  fairy,  clapping  his  hands 
with  delight,  *^  You  have  got  it  first  time.  That's 
my  name !  * ' 

*  ^  Your  name — ^what  is  f  I  don 't  even  know  what 
you  are ! ' ' 

**Why,  Merrion  Brite  is  my  name — at  your 
service!  When  you  said  just  now  that  we  didn^t 
exist,  I  thought  I  would  just  come  and  show  you 
that  you  are  quite  wrong.  I  am  one  of  the  fairies 
in  the  fire!" 

**I  shouldn't  have  believed  it,*'  said  the  man, 
looking  very  puzzled.  **In  fact,  I  do  not  believe 
it  even  now.  Probably  you  are  only  a  bit  of 
fancy. ' ' 

**Well,  I  am  a  bit  fancy;  at  least,  my  suit  is. 
Do  you  like  it  r' 

**It's  very  grand.    Your  best  suit,  I  supposed' 

*'0h  no!     These  are  my  working  clothes.'' 

**But  I  didn't  know  that  fairies  did  any  work," 
said  the  man,  getting  quite  interested. 

** Don't  they!  My  word,  the  fairies  in  the  fire 
do." 

**You  surprise  me.  Won't  you  tell  me  some- 
thing more  about  yourself  and  the  kind  of  work 
you  have  to  do?" 

The  fairy  looked  quite  pleased  as  he  settled  him- 
self on  the  top  bar,  and  clearing  his  throat  just 
like  elderly  gentlemen  do,  he  began:  *'Well,  it's 
not  what  you'd  call  an  easy  life.  People  always 
expect  us  to  be  bright  and  cheerful,  and  I  think 
they  sometimes  put  too  much  on  us.  .  .  ." 


THE  FAIRIES  IN  THE  FIRE  55 

**I'm  afraid  I  don't  understand, ' '  interrupted 
the  man.    *^How  do  they  put  too  much  on  you?" 

'^It's  like  this.  Once  a  fire  is  lighted,  you  know, 
we  set  to  work  and  no  sooner  have  we  got  it  nice 
and  ruddy,  when  someone  will  come  in  and  put 
another  shovelful  of  coal  on,  and  say,  *Now  do 
hurry  and  burn  up!  It's  bitterly  cold  to-day.' 
So  we  have  to  start  again  on  that  black,  sizzling 
coal,  and  change  it  from  dark  to  bright,  from  cold 
to  hot,  till  instead  of  being  wrapped  up  in  itself, 
it  gives  out  its  light  and  warmth  to  others.  You 
know  what  coal  is,  don't  you  I" 

The  man  nodded,  so  Merrion  went  on: 

^*It  has  sunshine  and  heat  locked  up  in  its  heart 
you  know.  Well,  we  work  on  its  feelings  till  it 
unlocks  its  treasures  and  lets  the  sunshine  out. 
Of  course,  it  may  sulk  a  bit  at  first,  and  look  very 
black  about  it,  but  we  generally  manage  to  warm 
things  up. 

^^That  isn't  all.  We  arrange  beautiful  land- 
scapes and  splendid  castles  to  please  the  children. 
No,  of  course,  they  cannot  go  to  them,  but  you 
must  have  seen  little  folk  sit  on  the  rug  after  tea, 
before  the  lights  are  on,  and  admire  our  work? 
I  have,  many  a  time.  We  can  hear  them  say, 
*  Look,  there  it  is !  A  great  palace !  And  see  that 
bright  gate?  That  is  where  the  Fairy  Queen  has 
just  gone  in.    Aren't  those  mountains  fine?' 

^^I  say!  it's  worth  all  the  trouble  we  take  just 
to  see  their  bright  faces,  and  to  hear  them  laugh." 

' '  Yes, ' '  said  the  man,  *  ^  I  should  think  it  is.  And 
I  suppose  there  is  quite  a  lot  of  you?" 

*' Rather!  We  are  a  mighty  nation,  and  the 
world  couldn't  get  on  without  us.     Some  of  us 


56        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

work  on  the  great  steamships,  others  drive  the 
railway  engines,  and  some  are  busy  in  all  your  fac- 
tories, while  there  is  quite  a  large  number  of  us 
who  live  in  houses  like  yours.  Wherever  we  get 
a  chance,  we  are  always  busy  giving  back  comfort 
and  cheer  for  all  the  black  things  people  heap  on 
us!'' 

*^That  is  returning  good  for  evil,"  mused  the 
man. 

Just  then,  there  was  a  tiny  spurt  of  flame.  The 
fairy  had  disappeared.  But  as  the  man  sat  there 
he  said  to  himself,  ''So  that's  how  it  is!  The 
fairies  take  all  the  hard  and  gloomy  things  that 
come  their  way,  and  do  their  level  best  to  make 
someone  else  happy.  I  like  that.  It  only  needs 
a  bit  of  an  effort  when  things  are  not  to  one's 
liking  to  make  the  best  of  them.  I  must  try  to 
be  merry  and  bright ! ' ' 

The  fire  crackled,  and  the  man  could  have  de- 
clared that  he  heard  tiny  hands  clapping,  and  a 
little  voice  cry,  ''Bravo!  just  try  it!" 


XI 

THE   PIRATES 

ONE  dark  night,  the  Angel  that  sees  to  things 
called  on  the  wise  man.  But  it  was  late. 
The  man  was  fast  asleep,  so  the  Angel  had  to  wake 
him. 

*  ^  Dear  me !  What  a  start  yon  gave  me.  What 's 
the  matter  1    Is  the  house  on  fire  T '  he  asked  sleep- 

iiy. 

'^No,''  said  the  Angel,  *^the  house  is  all  right. 
It  is  something  I  want  the  children  to  know  about, 
and  they  will  listen  to  you  for  they  love  you  well." 

**But  who  are  you?''  he  asked. 

**0h,  I  am  only  an  angel,''  was  the  reply.  **Come 
with  me ! ' ' 

The  Angel  took  the  man's  hand,  guiding  him 
down  a  long  narrow  passage  somewhere  near  the 
seashore,  and  soon  they  stood  in  a  room  that 
looked  as  though  it  had  been  cut  out  of  the  solid 
rock.  And  around  a  big  table,  lighted  by  candles 
stuck  in  bottles,  sat  the  fiercest-looking  lot  of  men 
the  sage  had  ever  seen. 

Their  faces  were  weather-beaten  and  grim,  and 
each  man  wore  a  strange  design  on  his  breast  that 
looked  like  two  bones  with  something  oval  in  the 
middle.  And  to  make  matters  worse,  their  belts 
were  full  of  knives  and  pistols. 

It  may  have  been  the  knives  or  possibly  the 

57 


58        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

bones  that  reminded  him  of  something,  for  the  old 
man  turned  to  the  Angel  and  whispered,  **If  you 
don't  mind,  I  think  I'll  just  slip  back  home  for  a 
minute.  I'm  not  sure  if  I  gave  my  dog  his  sup- 
per/' 

*  ^  You  cannot  go  now.  You  should  have  thought 
about  that  before.  Don't  you  know  where  we 
are?" 

The  man,  forgetting  manners  for  a  moment, 
shook  his  head. 

**We  are  in  the  pirates'  den!''  the  Angel  an- 
swered. 

That  seemed  to  make  the  man  more  anxious 
than  ever  to  see  about  his  dog's  supper.  It  surely 
couldn't  be  that  he  was  afraid!  But  the  Ajigel 
took  his  hand,  and  that  reassured  him,  so  he  lis- 
tened to  what  was  going  on. 

The  pirate  chief  was  talking  to  his  men,  and 
when  he  laughed,  all  the  shadows  seemed  to  share 
in  it  till  the  whole  cave  was  full  of  laughing  voices. 

*  *  Now,  my  hearties !  Let  us  hear  what  you  have 
taken  on  this  last  cruise,"  he  said,  looking  into  the 
faces  of  his  company.    ^ 'Who's  first?" 

**Well,  Cap'n,"  began  one  man,  '^we  saw  a  trim 
little  craft  sailing  along,  so  we  boarded  her,  and  a 
fine  cargo  she  had." 

The  pirate  chief  smiled.    *  *  What  was  it  ?  " 

'* Pearls,  Cap'n,  pearls!  So  we  took  them  and 
sank  the  ship ! ' ' 

^^Good!"  replied  the  chief — though  of  course, 
he  meant  it  was  very  bad.  '^Now,  No.  2,  what 
have  you  to  report?" 

The  man  addressed  told  how  he  had  taken  a 
vessel    laden    with    cases    labelled,    **Things-at- 


THE  PIRATES  69 

tempted.'^  The  next  said  he  had  captured  a 
cargo  marked,  ^*Things-as-they-are.*'  While  a 
fourth  said,  ^  *  Cap  'n,  mine 's  a  queer  capture.  The 
ship  I  got  was  laden  with  Smiles  and  Kind  Words ; 
you  'd  better  have  a  look  at  that  lot  in  daylight ! ' ' 

The  pirate  chief  laughed  again,  this  time  so 
heartily  that  his  yellow  teeth  made  the  wise  man 
think  that  it  was  a  pity  he  was  not  as  careful  as 
the  girls  and  boys  he  knew,  who  cleaned  theirs 
every  day. 

^^YouVe  done  well,''  said  the  Captain.  **You 
couldn't  have  done  better  if  I'd  been  with  you, 
but  these  rheumatics.  ..." 

Just  then  the  Angel  led  the  old  man  out.  **I 
have  been  thinking  of  that  dog  of  yours.  You 
had  better  get  back;  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  the 
poor  animal  being  hungry. ' ' 

But  the  man  said,  '  *  Oh,  he  '11  be  all  right  for  a 
few  minutes  more.  The  fact  is,  I  felt  just  a  little 
er — afraid  of  those  men.  But  these  ships — I  never 
heard  of  cargoes  like  those.  What  did  they 
mean?" 

' '  That  is  just  what  I  wanted  to  explain.  We  can 
talk  it  over  as  we  walk  back.  Every  boy  and  girl, 
and  every  grown-up  too,  for  that  matter,  has  ships 
at  sea.  You  remember  the  first  one,  laden  with 
pearls?  Each  hour  is  a  pearl,  and  it  meant  that 
Time  had  been  lost  by  somebody. 

''Another  pirate  captured  that  splendid  cargo 
of  Things-attempted.  Someone  had  given  up 
trying  to  do  the  lessons  that  seemed  hard.  The 
third  had  a  load  of  Things-as-they-are,  meaning 
that  somebody  had  parted  with  Truth.  And  the 
last   had   taken   Smiles    and   Kind   Words — you 


60         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

can  gness  that  means  a  lost  temper  somewhere! 

*^  These  are  the  most  precious  cargoes  a  ship 
can  carry — Time,  Trying,  Truth,  and  Temper. 
And  when  a  pirate  captures  these,  it  is  a  serious 
loss  both  to  the  owner  and  to  the  world.'* 

^*I  think  I  understand,"  said  the  man,  **but  will 
the  little  folks  T' 

*  *  Certainly,  if  you  tell  them  that  the  pirate  who 
captures  time  is  Laziness;  the  one  who  steals 
Things-attempted  is  Carelessness ;  while  the  other 
two  are  Falsehood  and  Crossness.  But  if  the 
ships  had  only  run  up  their  own  flag  when  the 
pirates  attacked — the  flag  of  Resolve — they  would 
have  been  safe.  Now  I  think  you  had  better  hurry 
back;  your  dog  will  be  ravenous !'' 

And  so  that  he  would  be  sure  to  remember,  the 
wise  man  kept  saying  to  himself : 

Time       is  stolen  by  Laziness 
Trying    is  stolen  by  Carelessness 
Truth      is  stolen  by  Falsehood 
Temper  is  stolen  by  Crossness. 


xn 

FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH 

LUCIUS  was  a  young  soldier  in  the  army  of 
ancient  Rome,  and  he  was  so  handsome  and 
brave  that  when  he  strode  along  the  streets,  people 
would  turn  to  look  a  second  time.  This  may  have 
been  because  he  was  so  splendidly  clad,  for  his 
coat  of  mail,  with  the  burnished  breastplate  and 
shining  helmet  with  its  nodding  plume,  gleamed 
like  gold  in  the  sunshine.  But  more  probably  it 
was  because  he  walked  with  head  erect  and  chest 
out,  instead  of  lounging  along  like  some  children 
do,  although  father  is  always  telling  them  to 
straighten  up. 

The  officer,  Claudian,  who  commanded  Lucius 's 
legion,  was  very  proud  of  this  fine  soldier.  He  had 
noticed  how  obliging  and  obedient  Lucius  was,  for 
he  never  needed  telling  twice  to  do  a  thing,  and 
what  is  more,  he  did  it  with  such  a  happy  face 
that  the  officer  promised  to  promote  him. 

About  this  time,  the  day  came  round  when  all 
the  garrisons  in  different  parts  of  the  empire  were 
rearranged.  Legions  were  drafted  from  one 
place  to  another,  and  every  soldier  was  eager  to 
know  just  where  he  would  be  sent.  And  Lucius^ 
with  the  promise  of  promotion  in  his  mind,  was 
full  of  hope  that  he  would  get  a  chance  of  showing 

61 


62         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

his  devotion  and  courage.  Where  would  his  legion 
go?    To  Gaul?    That  was  his  dearest  wish. 

There  was  a  great  war  raging  in  Gaul,  and  that 
was  why  Lucius  thought  he  stood  a  chance  of  doing 
something  heroic  and  great,  but  to  his  disappoint- 
ment, when  the  lists  were  issued,  he  found  that 
instead  of  being  drafted  there,  or  to  some  of  the 
distant  parts  of  the  empire,  his  legion  had  been 
told  off  for  garrison  duty  in  Italy. 

As  he  was  returning  to  his  quarters,  feeling 
very  depressed,  whom  should  he  meet  but  his 
officer,  Claudian.  The  young  soldier  saluted,  but 
the  other  stopped  and  said,  with  a  smile : 

*'How  fares  it  with  thee?  And  why  art  thou 
so  sad  of  face?'' 

*'Well,  sir,''  replied  Lucius,  ^*I  have  just  seen 
the  lists  and  I  hoped  we  were  thought  brave 
enough  to  be  sent  to  the  wars.'' 

**Yea,  and  so  hoped  I,  for  I  am  disappointed 
even  as  thou. ' ' 

''But  could  we  not  appeal  to  the  Senate,  sir,  and 
crave  permission  to  go?  I  would  like  to  show 
myself  a  man." 

'*No,"  replied  Claudius.  ''What  Caesar  wills 
must  be  obeyed.  And  where  he  sends  us  we  must 
prove  our  loyalty  and  our  courage." 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  shortly 
afterwards,  the  legion  found  itself  in  the  city  of 
Herculaneum. 

That  very  year — it  was  A.D.  79 — there  was  a 
fearful  eruption.  The  volcano  suddenly  belched 
forth  its  fiery  lava,  and  the  molten  mass  swept 
down  upon  the  city.  The  alarm  was  given. 
Crowds  of  people  fled  for  their  lives  along  the 


FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH  63 

roads  leading  to  the  countryside,  while  others, 
stricken  with  fear,  hid  in  their  houses  hoping  they 
might  be  safe. 

Lucius  was  on  guard  at  one  of  the  gates.  It 
would  be  another  three  hours  before  he  went  off 
duty,  and  as  he  looked  first  at  the  flaming  crater 
of  the  volcano  and  then  at  the  people  surging  past 
him,  he  wondered  what  to  do.  The  ground  shook 
under  his  feet.  Buildings  were  toppling  in  ruin 
about  him.  Should  he  flee  like  the  rest,  or  stay 
there  at  his  post? 

Then  he  recalled  swiftly  how  he  had  longed  to 
show  his  devotion  and  bravery,  and  the  words  of 
his  officer  came  back :  ' '  Where  Cassar  sends  us  we 
must  prove  our  loyalty  and  courage.^'  He  could 
still  show  the  kind  of  man  he  was !  And  so,  be- 
cause he  had  been  set  to  guard  that  gate,  he  re- 
mained true  to  his  trust.  He  was  faithful  unto 
death ! 

Centuries  have  passed.  But  a  few  years  ago, 
some  very  clever  men  were  digging  amid  the  ruins 
of  that  buried  city.  They  had  unearthed  part  of 
the  walls,  and  in  an  archway,  they  discovered  the 
remains  of  a  Eoman  sentry.  He  was  still  at  his 
post,  and  the  price  of  his  fidelity  had  been  his  life. 
You  will  remember  that  Christ  said,  '^He  that  is 
faithful  in  that  which  is  least,  is  faithful  also  in 
much. ' ' 

It  is  the  little  duty  done  well,  the  unimportant 
service  we  are  called  to  render,  that  test  our  cour- 
age and  show  our  steadfastness,  and  just  as  this 
soldier  proved  his  grit  and  devotion  to  his  emperor 
in  doing  his  duty  faithfully,  so  in  the  life  we  live 
at  home,  at  school,  at  play,  can  we  honour  Christ. 


xin 

MOURNFUL  MAX,  THE  MISER 

THAT  was  not  his  real  name,  nor  was  it  his  only 
name,  for  sometimes,  just  for  a  change,  peo- 
ple called  him.  Miserly  Max,  the  mournful.  But 
if  there  was  anything  in  either  name,  he  could  not 
have  been  a  very  nice  man  to  live  with.  However, 
that  did  not  matter  very  much,  for  he  lived  alone, 
and  his  home  was  in  a  little  old-fashioned  town 
where  everyone  knew  everyone  else,  and  every- 
thing about  each  other's  affairs. 

They,  used  to  gossip  about  Max.  Some  said  he 
was  very  rich,  but  miserly,  while  others  asked  how 
he  could  be  rich  when  he  was  so  miserable,  for  they 
thought  that  wealth  and  happiness  would  be  sure 
to  go  hand  in  hand. 

Now  Max  used  to  see  the  folk  talking  together 
as  he  passed  by  and  he  had  a  good  idea  that  they 
were  discussing  him.  For  one  thing,  no  one 
seemed  to  want  anything  to  do  with  him.  They 
would  look  the  other  way  when  they  saw  him  com- 
ing, and  if  by  any  chance  he  overtook  them  going 
to  market,  they  tried  to  avoid  him. 

This  made  him  more  mournful  than  ever  and 
more  miserly,  and  he  would  go  back  to  his  solitary 
house,  soured  and  sad.  He  had  thought  once  that 
he  would  have  a  dog  or  a  cat  just  to  keep  him  com- 

64 


MOURNFUL  MAX,  THE  MISER  65 

pany,  but  animals  need  food,  and  food  costs 
money — though  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
forget  to  feed  your  rabbits,  or  give  a  few  crumbs 
to  the  birds.  So  Max  had  to  find  another  means 
of  comforting  himself.  He  turned  to  the  only 
thing  he  loved.  His  gold  1  No,  he  hadn  't  any  gold. 
It  was  too  scarce  to  be  his  idol,  so  he  had  all  his 
money  changed  into  silver,  so  that  it  looked  more. 

Well,  when  he  was  quite  sure  the  shutters  were 
fast  and  the  door  bolted.  Max  would  take  out  a  bag 
of  silver.  He  had  several,  though  he  never  allowed 
himself  to  see  them  all  at  once.  That  might  have 
made  him  feel  happy,  miser  as  he  was,  and  he  liked 
to  be  miserable  because  it  is  cheaper  to  be  unhappy 
than  to  be  glad ;  at  least  for  anyone  like  him,  it  was 
easier.  So  he  would  open  the  bag,  and  carefully 
count  the  coins.  Perhaps  he  hoped  that  they  might 
have  increased  since  he  last  looked  at  them,  but 
when  he  discovered  that  there  was  a  coin  missing, 
then  he  would  get  very  cross  and  unhappy,  and 
wonder  what  had  become  of  it.  The  only  thing 
to  do  was  to  count  through  the  whole  lot  again, 
and  when  he  found  he  had  made  a  mistake,  he 
would  be  so  happy  that  he  would  have  to  put  the 
bag  under  the  floor  again,  so  that  he  might  resume 
his  miserable  feeling. 

'*Now  it's  gone!  It's  out  of  sight.  Just  what 
it  would  be  if  anyone  robbed  me !  Suppose  they 
did !    Hello,  what 's  that  1 ' ' 

It  was  raining  heavily,  and  the  wind  was 
howling  about  the  house,  but  this  was  another 
kind  of  noise.  It  was  a  tap,  tap,  tapping,  at  the 
window,  and  Max's  knees  smote  together.  ^'It's 
thieves,"  he  moaned.    "I  knew  they  would  come 


66         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

sooner  or  later.  Whatever  shall  I  do?'^  Then  it 
occurred  to  him  that  robbers  would  hardly  tap  at 
the  window  to  attract  attention.  Then  perhaps 
it  was  someone  who  wanted  to  borrow  some- 
thing! That  was  nearly  as  bad.  Just  then  the 
knocking  sounded  on  the  door,  and  a  child  ^s  voice 
seemed  to  be  calling  his  name.  He  opened  the 
door,  and  he  could  just  discern  the  face  of  a  little 
boy^  drenched  with  the  pelting  rain. 

/^Please,  Mr.  Max,  I'm  so  wet  and  tired.  Will 
you  let  me  come  in  for  a  bit?  I'd  lost  my  way 
till  I  saw  your  light.    I  won't  ask  for  anything !'' 

The  artful  little  fellow  might  have  known  that 
was  sure  to  gain  him  admittance,  for  now  that 
Max  knew  that  it  wasn't  thieves,  and  that  no  one 
wanted  to  borrow  anything,  he  was  willing  enough 
to  let  the  boy  shelter.  Strange  to  say,  he  felt 
just  a  bit  sorry  for  the  boy,  and  taking  off  his 
wet  clothes,  Max  wrapped  him  in  a  rug,  and  set 
him  before  the  fire,  while  the  storm  grew  worse 
and  worse. 

^*I'd  let  you  stay  the  night  only  your  mother 
might  think.  ..." 

*^0h,  she  won't  mind.  She'll  think  I'm  at 
Grannie's.    I  stay  there  sometimes,  you  know." 

Max  did  not  know,  but  he  thought  the  wisest 
thing  to  do  would  be  just  to  nod  his  head,  and  the 
boy  chattered  on.  He  told  him  all  about  his 
school,  and  how  kind  the  old  master  who  taught 
them  was  so  that  everyone  loved  him.  ^'He  lets 
us  come  to  his  house,  if  we  like,  and  he  tells  us 
some  fine  tales.  And  do  you  know  what  he  does? 
He  dresses  up.  Yes,  dresses  up  like  a  carrier, 
and  when  he  hears  about  someone  sick  or  too 


MOURNFUL  MAX,  THE  MISER  67 

poor  to  get  the  comforts  lie  needs,  he  goes  round 
to  the  house,  when  it's  dark,  and  he'll  say,  *A 
parcel  for  you,  ma'am,'  and  although  he  will 
speak  in  the  gruffest  voice,  the  folk  all  know  him, 
and  they'll  laugh  and  say,  ^Why,  if  it  isn't  dear 
old  Dominie.'  Perhaps  it's  a  parcel  of  clothes 
for  a  little  child,  or  something  nice  for  one  of  the 
old  people.    But,  isn't  he  great,  Mr.  Max?" 

This  was  quite  a  long  speech  for  the  boy,  but 
Max  had  listened,  and  he  said,  ^^Does  he  seem 
to  enjoy  playing  tricks  like  these?" 

^^ Enjoy  it!  Eather!  You  should  see  his  eyes 
twinkle  when  he  tells  the  boys  how  much  pleasure 
there  is  in  doing  a  good  turn  for  people." 

When  Max  got  the  boy  to  sleep,  it  was  very 
late,  but  he  sat  down  thinking  over  what  he  had 
heard.  *^How  happy  this  schoolmaster  must  be, 
and  how  people  love  him.  Yet  they  call  me 
mournful  Max.  He  can't  be  as  well-off  as  I  am. 
I  know  he  isn't!  Well,  I'll  see  into  this  to- 
morrow." 

What  had  happened  to  Max!  It  was  as  though 
something  had  awakened  in  his  heart,  and 
when  he  sent  the  boy  off  next  morning,  after  a 
really  good  breakfast,  he  gave  him  a  small  but 
heavy  packet  to  give  to  his  mother,  while  one  of 
the  bags  of  silver  looked  decidedly  thinner  than 
it  had  done  the  previous  evening.  Then  Max  set 
out  for  the  schoolmaster's. 

''Yes;  I  suppose  there  is  something  in  it,  but 
I  don't  like  to  think  that  anyone  has  been  telling 
tales  out  of  school,"  said  the  old  Dominie  in  reply 
to  Max's  questions.  *'What  makes  me  do  it? 
Why,  Max,  you  are  not  thinking  of  acting  in  that 


68         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

way,  are  you?  I  always  understood  you  were  a 
mi '' 

** Don't,  please!''  said  Max,  raising  his  hand. 
**I  want  to  be  different.  Tell  me  your  secret — 
why  you  take  such  pleasure  in  people." 

The  master  led  the  way  into  his  book-lined 
room,  and  pointing  to  a  motto  on  the  wall,  he  said, 
** There's  the  secret.  I  don't  know  who  wrote 
those  words,  but  they  have  meant  a  good  deal 
to  me." 

Max  put  his  spectacles  on,  and  with  difficulty 
spelled  out : 

J  esus  first 
0  thers  next 
Y  ourself  last 

*  *  That  makes  you  kind ;  but  what  makes  you  so 
happy!"  asked  Max. 

**That  is  there  too !  Don't  you  see  that  the  first 
letters  spell  JOY?"  And  as  Max  read  the  motto 
again,  he  saw  that  the  Dominie  was  right.  Mourn- 
ful Max  is  now  no  more.  He  spends  his  life  in 
helping  other  folk,  and  what  do  you  think  his 
name  is  now? 


XIV 
LADIES  FIKST 

THE  boy's  parents  were  sad.  But  the  king's 
orders  had  to  be  obeyed,  and  so  they  sent 
their  child  away.  It  came  to  pass,  however,  that 
a  princess  fell  in  love  with  the  boy,  and  taking 
him  back  to  her  palace,  she  made  him  a.  prince. 
There  he  had  a  splendid  time.  She  gave  him  fine 
clothes  to  wear.  He  had  servants  to  do  his  light- 
est bidding.  And  when  he  felt  hungry,  there 
were  dainty  dishes  set  before  him  that  he  might 
be  satisfied.  He  must  have  been  happy  as  the 
day  was  long! 

That  is  just  where  we  often  make  a  mistake.  It 
does  not  follow  that  if  we  lived  in  a  palace  and 
had  everything  that  heart  could  wish,  that  we 
would  be  a  bit  happier  than  we  could  be  now  if 
we  tried. 

The  years  passed  very  pleasantly  and  swiftly 
for  the  prince,  and  he  grew  up.  He  was  rather 
tired  of  the  palace,  and  having  the  servants 
pampering  him  as  though  he  were  still  a  child, 
but  something  occurred  that  made  him  want  to 
get  away  from  it  all. 

One  day  he  was  out  for  a  walk  and  there  he 
came  upon  one  of  the  king's  officers,  beating  a 
poor  fellow  for  something  he  had  done,  or  per- 
haps had  not  done.  He  was  one  of  the  people  to 
whom  the  prince  really  belonged,  and  unable  to 


70         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

restrain  himself,  the  prince  dashed  up  and 
knocked  the  man's  tormentor  to  the  ground. 

This  was  a  serious  thing  to  do,  for  someone 
might  report  it  to  the  king.  But  in  any  case,  the 
prince  felt  that  he  could  not  live  in  idleness  any 
more,  so  he  got  some  peasant's  clothes  and  steal- 
ing off  from  the  palace,  he  made  for  a  distant 
place  in  the  country  where  he  thought  he  might 
be  able  to  get  work. 

It  is  not  clothes  that  make  a  noble  man,  and 
although  he  did  not  now  look  like  a  prince,  he 
remained  one  at  heart.    This  will  prove  it. 

As  he  got  farther  away  from  the  city,  the  road 
got  very  dry  and  dusty,  and  being  more  accus- 
tomed to  riding  in  a  royal  chariot  than  trudging 
afoot,  the  prince  got  very  tired.  Besides,  the  sun 
was  beating  down  on  his  head,  and  he  felt  he 
could  not  go  another  step,  so  he  sat  by  a  wayside 
well. 

While  he  was  wondering  how  much  farther  he 
had  to  go,  some  shepherd  girls  came  up  with  their 
flock,  and  while  the  sheep  were  baa-ing  as  hard 
as  they  could,  the  girls  started  to  draw  water 
from  the  well,  filling  the  troughs  for  the  sheep  to 
drink.  It  was  hard  work  and  hot  work  too,  but 
they  did  not  mind  so  long  as  the  sheep  got  the 
cool  water. 

That  reminds  me :  have  you  given  your  canary 
fresh  water  to-day?  And  did  you  see  that  your 
cat  had  a  nice  drink  of  milk  I  You  know  that  our 
dumb  friends  are  dependent  on  us,  and  we  must 
always  think  of  them.  And  a  few  crumbs  for  the 
birds  outside  are  always  welcome. 

However,  just  as  the  troughs  were  filled,  up 


LADIES  FIRST  71 

came  a  group  of  men  with  another  flock  of  sheep. 
^^Good  idea!''  said  the  shepherds  ''No  need  to 
draw  water  to-day;  they  have  done  it  for  us. 
Here !  drive  those  sheep  back  and  let  ours  drink ! ' ' 

They  were  starting  to  chase  the  frightened 
flock  away  when  up  sprang  the  young  prince.  His 
eyes  were  flashing  and  his  hands  were  clenched. 
He  pushed  the  rude  fellows  aside  and  said, 
''Ladies  first!'' — or  something  that  meant  the 
same  thing. 

The  boys  will  agree  that  it  was  a  princely  thing 
for  him  to  act  like  that.  Then  why  don't  you 
do  it?  It  does  not  mean  fighting — except  against 
selfishness,  but  this  is  what  it  does  mean :  Do  you 
offer  your  seat  to  a  lady  or  stand  aside  to  let  one 
pass,  or  try  to  be  of  service  in  some  way?  It 
applies  to  mother  and  your  sisters  as  well  as  to 
strangers. 

You  will  remember  that  when  the  troopship 
Birkenhead  was  sinking  the  soldiers  stood  on 
deck  as  though  on  the  parade-ground  while  the 
sailors  put  the  women  and  children  into  the  few 
boats  they  had.  Their  motto  was,  ' '  Ladies  first ! ' ' 
and  we  think  with  pride  of  those  splendid  men 
who  thus  showed  true  courage  and  real  courtesy. 

But  the  motto  is  for  the  girls  as  well  as  the 
boys.  Their  resolve  must  be  "Ladies  first!" 
That  means  they  must  be  ladies  before  anything 
else — too  polite  to  act  thoughtlessly  or  speak 
crossly;  too  ladylike  to  be  anything  but  gracious 
and  kind. 

Who  was  the  prince?  Why,  you  have  guessed 
his  name  long  ago.  He  was  Moses,  and  the 
maidens  were  the  daughters  of  Midian's  priest. 


XV 

THE  QUICKENINa  KISS 

/^NCE  upon  a  time,  in  a  quiet  glade,  lay  a 
^-^  princess  fast  asleep.  She  was  fair  and 
lovely  to  look  upon,  and  the  courtiers  round  about 
her  could  not  but  admire  her.  But  there  was  one 
thing  they  could  not  do ;  they  could  not  wake  her 
from  her  sleep. 

^'We  cannot  let  her  stay  here,''  said  one. 
''What  will  the  king  say!''  But  they  looked  the 
more  puzzled,  for  this  princess  was  like  someone 
I  know,  who  never  wants  to  get  up,  no  matter  how 
often  he  is  called. 

' 'Let  me  try, ' '  the  Lightning  said.  So  he  flashed 
his  bright  light  in  her  face.  She  did  not  move. 
In  fact,  one  would  hardly  have  known  that  she 
was  alive  but  for  the  rising  and  falling  of  her 
bosom. 

"I  think  I  can  do  it,"  remarked  the  Thunder, 
pushing  to  the  front.  "Now  give  me  a  chance." 
He  growled  his  loudest.  Then  with  a  mighty 
whoop  he  returned  to  see  if  she  was  awake,  for  he 
was  sure  that  no  one  could  sleep  through  a  noise 
like  that.  But  to  his  astonishment,  and  indeed  to 
that  of  the  other  courtiers,  she  did  not  stir. 

The  Wind  cut  in  just  here  and  said, ' '  Let  me  see 
what  I  can  do."  So  he  whistled  gently,  as  much 
like  a  blackbird  as  he  could.    Then  he  howled  like 

72 


THE  QUICKENING  KISS  T3 

a  creature  in  pain.  ^^Well,  we'll  have  to  blovv^  her 
up ! ' '  he  said,  and  holding  his  breath  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  then  blew  his  hardest,  but  he  was  no 
more  successful  than  the  others. 

The  Hailstones  took  their  turn.  /  They  pat- 
tered on  the  ground  all  round  the  princess ;  then, 
growing  bolder,  they  even  flicked  her  face  with 
their  sharp  lash.    But  that  did  not  wake  her! 

The  courtiers  had  been  looking  on  in  wonder, 
but  when  they  saw  that  nothing  would  wake  their 
princess,  they  were  alarmed.  ^^Is  there  anything 
else  we  can  do  T '  said  one.  * '  We  cannot  leave  her 
like  this.  If  she  doesn't  wake  soon,  she  will  die, 
and  who  dare  face  the  king  then ! ' ' 

** Perhaps  we  ought  to  go  for  him,''  replied  an- 
other, '^but  I  have  heard  that  sprinkling  water  on 
people  who  will  not  wake  sometimes  helps.  Let  us 
ask  sister  Rain." 

The  Rain  came,  and  from  her  silver  pitcher  she 
shook  tiny  drops  of  water  that  fell  like  diamonds 
upon  the  sleeping  maiden.  And  as  they  fell,  she 
moved  slightly  in  her  sleep,  and  her  lips  opened 
in  a  fleeting  smile. 

^'Splendid!"  cried  all  the  courtiers.  *'That  is 
doing  it !    Keep  on ! " 

But  just  then,  the  Prince  of  the  Sunlit  Land 
stepped  through  a  rift  in  the  clouds,  and  seeing 
the  group  of  courtiers  standing  together  he  said, 
*^What  mean  you  standing  idly  here!  There  is 
much  to  do,  and  time  is  all  too  short  for  us  all." 

*'May  it  please  your  highness,"  said  one,  **we 
are  not  idle.  Our  princess  lies  here  in'  a  deep 
sleep,  and  we  fear  the  anger  of  our  king  if  we 
leave  her  thus,  but  wake  her  we  cannot ! ' ' 


74         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

**  Princess  r*  As  the  courtiers  parted  to  make 
way,  the  prince  saw  the  most  beauteous  maiden 
he  had  ever  looked  upon,  for  the  smile  that 
greeted  the  Rain's  message  had  returned.  **How 
fair  she  is.  The  like  of  her  I  have  never  seen  be- 
fore.'* And  kneeling  by  her  side,  the  prince 
pressed  his  lips  to  her  brow. 

How  it  came  about,  I  cannot  tell  you,  but  at 
that  instant  the  princess  opened  her  eyes,  and 
instead  of  being  afraid  at  the  sight  of  the  strange 
prince,  she  smiled  saying,  **0h,  I  have  had  such 
a  strange  dream.  I  seemed  to  see  a  bright  light 
flashing,  and  heard  awful  voices  round  about  me. 
Then  someone  threw  sharp  stones  at  me,  and  eerie 
sounds  seemed  to  come  out  of  the  night  till  I  was 
afraid  for  my  life.  But  it  was  only  a  dream.  I 
am  so  glad  you  woke  me  up!'' 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  the  prince,  and  as  he 
helped  her  to  her  feet  she  laughed  gaily.  **I  am 
wide  awake  now !  I  do  not  know  what  you  did  to 
rouse  me,  but  thank  you  very  much !  I  must  get 
back  to  the  palace.  My  father  will  think  I  am 
lost,  and  I  have  so  much  to  do." 

The  prince  took  her  hand  in  farewell.  Then  he 
said,  ^^I  will  come  to  the  palace  of  your  father, 
for  I  have  something  I  want  him  to  give  to  me. 
Can  you  guess  what  it  is?" 

The  lady  blushed  and  shook  her  head,  but  I 
think  she  knew  what  the  prince  meant.  And  so 
the  whole  party,  courtiers  as  well,  wended  their 
way  back  to  the  king.  And  though  the  Prince  of 
the  Sunlit  Land  had  succeeded  where  they  had 
failed,  they  did  not  mind  in  the  least,  so  long  as 


THE  QUICKENING  KISS  75 

their  happy   smiling  princess   was   awake   once 
more. 

You  have  guessed  what  the  story  means?  The 
princess  is  the  earth,  locked  in  her  winter  sleep. 
The  flashing  lightning,  the  noisy  thunder  and  the 
blustering  wind,  had  failed  to  wake  her  just  as  the 
pattering  hail,  for  gentleness  is  more  powerful 
than  roughness.  But  though  the  sweet  rain  had 
made  her  stir,  it  needed  the  warm  kiss  of  the  sun 
to  bring  her  fully  back  to  herself,  radiantly  fair. 

Try  what  you  can  do  for  those  about  you. 
Scolding  and  crossness  will  not  make  anyone  any 
better,  but  the  warm  kiss  of  kindness  and  thought- 
fulness  will  work  wonders. 


XVI 

THE  HOLY  GRAIL 

THERE  is  an  old  legend  that  says  that  the  cup 
from  which  Jesus  drank  at  the  Last  Supper 
was  brought  by  a  pious  man  to  Britain.  Those 
who  had  the  care  of  it  were  to  be  pure  and  good, 
but  one  man  forgot  his  vows,  and  the  result  was, 
the  cup  vanished  just  as  all  our  blessings  do  when 
we  do  what  is  wrong. 

Now  there  was  a  young  knight  named  Sir  Laun- 
fal  who  resolved  to  go  in  search  of  this  cup,  and 
he  vowed  that  he  would  not  return  until  he  had 
found  it.  So  he  called  for  his  armour  and  his 
sword.  He  mounted  his  charger.  The  great  draw- 
bridge was  lowered  with  many  a  creak  and  groan 
and  he  clattered  out  of  his  castle. 

As  he  rode  out,  however,  he  thought  he  heard 
a  voice.  He  looked  about,  and  there,  crouching  by 
the  castle  gate  was  a  poor  leprous  beggar,  who 
held  out  his  hand,  and  asked  for  alms. 

The  proud  young  knight  was  very  angry  that 
such  a  fellow  should  dare  speak  to  him,  but  he 
took  a  gold  piece  from  his  purse,  and  flung  it  to 
the  beggar.  It  lay  where  it  fell,  and  the  man 
looking  up  at  the  handsome  face  of  the  other  said : 
^'He  gives  nothing  but  worthless  gold  who  gives 
from  a  sense  of  duty." 

76 


THE  HOLY  GRAIL  77 

Sir  Launfal  rode  on.  Summer  faded  into 
autumn,  and  one  year  followed  another,  but  no 
trace  of  the  cup  could  he  find.  No  one  seemed  to 
have  heard  of  it.  Of  course,  he  had  set  out  in  a 
bad  temper,  and  everything  goes  wrong  then! 
Yet  having  vowed  that  he  would  never  return 
without  the  cup,  he  kept  on,  ever  seeking  but  never 
finding. 

Many  years  had  passed.  The  knight  was  no 
longer  young,  and  he  had  parted  with  his  horse, 
then  with  his  armour  in  order  to  get  food.  And 
at  last,  weary  of  his  quest,  poor  and  homeless, 
he  gave  up  and  came  back  to  find  that  people  had 
long  thought  him  dead,  and  another  had  taken  his 
place.    What  should  he  do? 

He  sat  down  by  the  gate  to  think.  Suddenly  he 
heard  a  voice.  It  was  the  same  voice  that  had 
called  to  him  that  day  when  he  first  rode  forth 
so  proudly.    He  remembered  it  well! 

He  looked  about,  and  though  it  was  getting 
dark,  he  espied  not  far  away,  the  very  beggar  to 
whom  he  had  flung  the  money,  but  now  the  poor 
fellow  looked  more  pitiable  than  ever. 

Possibly  the  knight  remembered  how  Jesus  had 
once  healed  a  leper  like  this  man,  for  he  walked 
over  to  him  and  said, 

*'I  behold  in  thee  an  image  of  Him  that  died 
on  the  tree,''  and  taking  out  the  last  piece  of 
coarse,  brown  bread  he  had  left,  he  gave  it  to  the 
beggar. 

There  was  a  wooden  bowl  lying  on  the  ground, 
so  Sir  Launfal  took  it,  and  breaking  the  ice  of 
the  stream,  he  filled  the  bowl  and  held  the  water 
to  the  leper's  parched  lips. 


78         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

It  was  then  that  the  wonder  took  place.  The 
bread  changed  from  brown  to  white.  The  water 
in  the  bowl  turned  to  red  wine,  and  even  the  bowl 
itself  became  a  glorious  vessel  of  gold. 

Nor  was  that  all.  Instead  of  a  loathsome  leper, 
there  sat  Christ,  looking  into  Sir  Launfal's  face, 
and  with  a  smile  He  said : 

^  ^  The  Holy  Supper  is  kept  indeed  in  whatso  we 
share  with  another's  need.  Who  gives  himself 
with  his  alms  feeds  three :  himself,  his  hungering 
neighbour,  and  Me.'' 

The  knight  had  ridden  far  and  had  wandered 
over  the  wide  world  to  show  his  love  to  his  Mas- 
ter, yet  all  the  time,  the  chance  of  doing  Him  serv- 
ice and  proving  his  devotion  lay  at  his  very  door. 


XVII 
THE  EIVER  AND  THE  POOL 

THE  snow  had  been  melting  on  the  mountains, 
and  two  little  streamlets  were  born  both  on 
the  same  spring  day.  They  were  quite  near  to 
each  other,  in  fact,  they  were  within  speaking  dis- 
tance, and  as  they  flowed  down  the  mountain  side, 
one  noticed  that  the  other  was  moving  much  faster 
than  she. 

**You  seem  in  a  hurry,  little  sister,''  she  called 
out.    '^ Where  are  you  going?" 

**I  want  to  get  down  to  the  meadows  where  the 
daisies  and  the  buttercups  will  soon  be  growing. 
I  heard  a  bird  say  that  they  are  always  glad  to  see 
a  stream,  and  down  there,  the  lambs  are  frisking 
about,  and  everything  is  as  happy  as  the  day  is 
long.    That  is  why  I  am  hurrying. ' ' 

The  other  pouted.  '*  You  are  very  foolish,''  she 
said.  ^'I  heard  what  the  bird  told  you,  but  I'm 
going  to  take  things  easily.  It's  nice  and  quiet  up 
here,  and  you  never  know  what  may  happen  down 
in  the  valley.  Grubby  children  may  come  and 
stand  in  you,  or  perhaps  some  cattle  will  come  and 
drink  you  dry,  then  where  will  you  be?  I'm  not 
running  any  risks.  What  is  the  use?  Besides, 
there's  plenty  of  time,  and  I'm  going  to  think  of 
myself  while  I  can."    And  she  did!    But  when 

79 


80         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

she  saw  that  the  other  stream  was  still  running 
along  as  fast  as  ever,  she  called,  *'Well,  good-bye! 
You're  very  silly!" 

The  second  stream  knew  that  it  was  not  a  bit  of 
use  getting  angry  because  the  other  was  spiteful, 
so  she  said,  "Good-bye!"  And  then  she  added  to 
herself,  ''I'd  rather  be  silly  than  selfish!'' 

On  it  went,  gathering  strength  as  it  tumbled 
among  the  rocks.  Now  and  again,  w^hen  it  came  to 
a  narrow  place,  it  had  the  hardest  work  in  the 
world  to  get  through,  but  it  twisted  and  turned 
till  it  managed  to  squeeze  past,  and  as  it  went 
lower  down,  things  began  to  get  easier. 

The  birds  were  singing  in  the  woods.  The  trees 
waved  their  arms  and  threw  kisses  to  the  little 
stream  from  the  distant  mountain.  And  in  the 
meadows,  the  flowers  turned  their  faces  to  it, 
while  the  lambs  with  their  funny  long  legs,  came 
romping  along  to  look  at  the  gurgling  water.  In 
one  place,  some  cattle  actually  came  in  till  they 
stood  knee  deep  in  the  stream,  and  as  they  drank 
the  cool  water,  they  seemed  to  lift  their  heads  to 
God  and  say,  ''Thank  You  for  sending  us  the 
stream ! ' ' 

This  pleased  the  stream  mightily,  and  as  she 
got  older,  she  got  bigger  and  broader,  just  like 
boys  do.  She  was  a  river  now,  and  the  fishing 
boats  that  had  been  tossing  all  night  on  the  wild 
deep  came  in  to  rest  upon  her  quiet  bosom. 

At  last  the  Sea,  which  is  the  foster-mother  of 
the  rivers,  stretched  out  her  arms  to  receive  her 
(You  know  that  geography  books  speak  of  the 
arms  .of  the  sea!). 


THE  RIVER  AND  THE  POOL  81 

**Well,  aren^t  you  glad  to  get  here?''  she  asked 
the  river. 

'^Yes/'  replied  the  river.  ^^Very  glad,  for 
everyone  seemed  so  pleased  to  welcome  me.  The 
trees  waved  to  me,  and  the  lambs  and  the  cattle 
actually  came  to  have  a  good  look  at  me.  As  I 
came  along,  I  have  been  turning  the  water-wheel 
for  the  miller,  and  the  boats  came  sailing  in  just 
before  I  got  to  you.  I'd  much  rather  be  a  river 
than  a  pool,"  she  added.  ^'It  is  such  fun  sharing 
what  you  have  with  others. ' ' 

^^But  what  has  become  of  your  sister  T'  asked' 
the  Sea.  ^^I  thought  you  would  have  made  the 
journey  together.  You  could  have  helped  one 
another  then." 

The  river  was  silent  for  awhile.  Then  she  said, 
^' We  started  together  but  she  wanted  to  stay  up  in 
the  mountains  a  bit  longer. ' ' 

Away  up  there,  the  other  stream  had  found  a 
cosy  little  hollow  into  which  she  crept.  It  was 
quiet  and  cool.  There  were  no  horrid  rocks  to 
climb  over,  but  just  nice  soft  earth,  so  feeling 
rather  drowsy,  she  settled  down  and  was  soon  fast 
asleep. 

By  and  by,  a  green  scum  formed  over  her  face, 
and  when  she  did  open  her  eyes  for  a  minute,  she 
felt  so  heavy  that  she  just  went  off  to  sleep  again. 
The  water  became  stagnant  and  slimy  so  that  the 
children  who  came  out  from  the  lonely  farms 
among  the  hills  would  not  go  near  it.  In  fact,  had 
the  pool  not  been  quite  so  sleepy,  she  might  have 
heard  them  say  to  one  another,  ''Keep  away  from 
that  pool!  It's  nasty.  Let's  go  down  to  the 
stream;  there's  more  fun  there!" 


82         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

And  there  was.  The  stream  had  heard  their 
joyous  laughter,  and  she  would  say  to  herself, 
*' After  all,  it  is  better  to  give  what  one  has  and 
still  have  it,  than  to  keep  it  and  lose  it !  I  would 
rather  be  silly  than  selfish,  and  it  is  much  more 
pleasant  being  a  stream  than  a  pool.  Look  at  the 
fun  of  sharing !'* 


XVIII 
THE  FINGEE-POSTS 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  there  was  a  boy  who  had  to 
set  out  on  a  journey,  but  he  did  not  know 
the  way.  So  he  went  to  the  wise  man  of  the  village 
and  said,  ^'Please  can  you  tell  me  which  road  I 
have  to  take.'' 

**It  all  depends  where  you  are  going,"  he  re- 
plied. 

*'0h,''  said  Harry,  *^I  have  to  go  from  Here  to 
There,  and  I  thought  you  might  know  the  way. 
Grown-ups  generally  know  best." 

The  wise  man  looked  very  pleased  as  he  said, 
^^You  must  take  the  first  turn  to  the  right,  and 
keep  straight  on.  Then  look  out  for  the  finger- 
posts." 

^*Are  there  many?"  he  asked. 

*^No,  only  three.  If  you  follow  their  direction, 
you  will  be  well  on  your  way,  and  by  the  third, 
you  will  meet  the  guide  who  is  to  take  you  the 
rest  of  the  journey.    Good-bye,  and  good  luck!" 

Harry  set  oif  in  high  glee.  It  was  a  glorious 
day,  and  as  he  tramped  along,  sure  enough,  he 
espied  a  finger-post  standing  at  the  cross-roads. 
But  when  he  got  to  it,  and  read  what  was  painted 
on  the  arm,  he  was  disappointed.  Instead  of  the 
name  of  the  place  he  wanted,  it  had  just  one  word, 
GO,  and  a  long  arm  pointing  along  the  highway. 

Still,  the  wise  man  had  told  him  to  follow  the 

83 


84         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

direction  of  each  finger-post  and  lie  would  reach 
his  goal,  so  off  he  started  again,  only  this  time,  he 
was  whistling  to  keep  his  spirits  up. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  he  came  upon  the  sec- 
ond sign.  This  was  stranger  than  the  first,  for  it 
had  also  one  word  on  it,  but  this  time  it  was 
GROW,  and  the  arm  sloped  upwards,  pointing 
right  up  the  steep  track  that  wound  up  the  face  of 
the  hill. 

There  was  no  whistling  now !  Harry  wanted  all 
his  breath  for  climbing.  But  as  he  went  slowly 
on,  he  thought  to  himself,  ^^IVe  never  heard  of 
finger-posts  like  these.  The  old  gentleman  said  I 
had  to  follow  them,  however,  so  I  suppose  it's  all 
right.     I'll  see  when  I  get  to  the  third." 

But  he  began  to  feel  that  he  would  never  reach 
the  third.  Every  step  of  the  way  seemed  to  be 
getting  harder,  and  he  was  tired.  At  last,  he 
thought  he  saw  something  sticking  up  on  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  so  he  re-doubled  his  efforts  and  after 
some  stiff  scrambling,  he  stood  panting  before  the 
third. 

The  others  had  been  strange,  but  this  was  the 
strangest  of  the  lot.  In  golden  letters  that  shone 
in  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  as  though  they  were 
painted  in  liquid  fire,  Harry  read  the  word, 
GLOW :  and  the  arm  pointed  down  the  other  side 
of  the  hill,  where  the  track  suddenly  ended  in  a 
dense  wood. 

^ '  Now  where  am  I  f "  he  said  to  himself.  * '  There 
doesn't  seem  to  be  any  road  now.  Why,  of  course, 
the  man  said  I  would  meet  the  guide  at  the  third 
finger-post.  But  where  is  hel  No  track,  no  guide  I 
This  is  queerer  than  ever!" 


THE  FINGER  POSTS  85 

As  Harry  stood  for  a  moment,  looking  about 
for  the  guide,  and  wondering  if  they  would  meet 
before  it  got  dark,  he  saw  smoke  curling  above 
some  trees.  So  off  he  set  to  see  what  it  was. 
There  was  a  tiny  cottage,  almost  hidden  from 
view,  so  the  boy,  who  was  feeling  just  a  little  out 
of  temper,  thought  that  perhaps  if  the  guide  were 
not  there  at  least  some  one  might  be  able  to  say 
vrhere  he  was.    So  he  knocked  at  the  door. 

It  was  opened  by  a  lady  with  a  kind  face  just 
like  his  mother's,  and  before  he  could  get  his 
question  out,  she  said,  ''Well,  little  man,  lostf 

''Nearly!  But  do  you  happen  to  know  if  there 
is  a  guide  about  here?  I  was  told  that  I  would 
meet  him  at  the  third  finger-post." 

"So  you  came  that  way,  did  jouV^  asked  the 
lady.  "I  wonder  if  you  can  remember  what  was 
on  them." 

"Yes,  I  think  so !  The  first  one  said  GO,  and  the 
arm  pointed  straight  along.  Then  the  second  said 
GEOW,  and  it  pointed  upwards.  While  the  third 
had  GLOW  on  it,  and  pointed  down  here  to  the 
dark  woods." 

"Splendid!"  cried  the  lady.  "That's  it! 
What  a  fine  memory  you  have.  To  reach  the 
golden  land  of  There  you  must 

"Go  as  God  points  you; 
Grow  as  God  bids  you; 
Glow  where  God  puts  you 
Day  by   day!" 

"But  what  about  the  guide?"  Harry  asked. 
"He  is  here,  waiting  to  lead  you  on.    His  name 
is  Christ!" 


XIX 
THE  TWO  PLANTERS 

LONG,  long  ago,  there  was  a  part  of  the  world 
where  the  flowers  had  never  begun  to  grow. 
The  people  did  not  know  what  was  wanting  to 
complete  the  scene,  but  as  they  looked  over  the 
long  grassy  slopes  of  the  hills  and  the  wide 
stretches  of  the  plains,  they  wished  that  there 
were  something  just  to  brighten  the  landscape. 

One  day,  a  stranger  appeared  from  no  one  knew 
where.  He  was  dressed  in  clothes  that  looked  as 
though  they  had  been  made  from  snow  when  the 
sun  shines  on  it:  they  were  so  dazzlingly  white. 
So  while  most  of  the  people  were  looking  wonder- 
ingly  at  their  visitor,  one,  a  bit  bolder  than  the 
rest  went  up  and  said,  ^^May  we  ask  who  you  are, 
sir,  and  whence  you  came  1 ' ' 

The  stranger  smiled,  saying,  *  ^  I  come  from  far. 
My  home  is  in  the  land  of  Loveliness,  and  look !  I 
have  brought  these  from  my  king.^' 

He  brought  his  hand  from  behind  his  back  and 
held  out  a  gorgeous  bunch  of  flowers.  There  were 
what  we  now  call  primroses,  violets,  daffodils, 
and  quite  a  lot  of  others.  **A11  these  will  I  plant 
in  your  land,  if  you  will  let  me,  for  without  the 
flowers  the  earth  looks  sad.^' 

The  man  spoke  so  kindly  and  was  so  polite  in 

86 


THE  TWO  PLANTERS  87 

his  ways,  that  the  people  were  quite  eager  for  him 
to  do  as  he  wished.  Yon  see,  everyone  likes  polite 
people;  that  is  why  mother  is  always  telling  you 
to  be  careful  how  you  speak. 

Some  of  them  got  spades  and  dug  up  the 
ground.  Then  the  visitor  set  to  work.  He  planted 
seeds  and  bulbs  very  carefully,  setting  some  in 
straight  lines;  others  in  little  clusters.  Then 
smoothing  the  soil  over  them,  he  turned  to  those 
who  were  looking  on,  and  said,  *^By  and  by  I  will 
return.  Then  we  shall  see  the  result  of  our 
work.  ^ ' 

^^ Before  you  go,''  said  one  of  the  people, 
** won't  you  tell  us  your  name?  We  are  very 
grateful  to  you  for  taking  so  much  trouble." 

With  a  laugh  he  said,  * ^ Oh,  it's  no  trouble.  It  is 
a  real  pleasure  to  me  to  do  a  little  service  for  any- 
one. My  name?  Love-right!  Good-bye."  And 
he  had  gone. 

He  was  hardly  out  of  sight  when  another  man, 
very  much  like  the  first  to  look  at,  came  along. 
*'I  say!"  he  cried.  ^^WTiat  a  shabby  old  world. 
WTiat  you  want  is  some  flowers.  Look  here!  if 
you  like,  I'll  plant  some  for  you.  WTiat  do  you 
say?" 

The  people  looked  at  one  another  and  the  man 
who  had  spoken  to  the  other  visitor  said,  *^We 
have  already  had  one  who  has  planted  some." 

^*I  know  whom  you  mean,"  replied  the  other. 
^  ^  But  you  will  have  to  wait  a  long  time  before  you 
see  anything  for  what  he  has  done.  But  mine! 
Say,  I'll  put  some  seed  in  here  that  will  be  up 
in  no  time." 

They  listened.    ^ '  What  shall  we  do  ? "  asked  one. 


88        PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

*^Well  it  does  not  seem  quite  fair  to  tlie  first  to 
let  this  man  sow  seeds  as  well,''  remarked  one  of 
tlie  older  men.  "Besides,  when  once  he  has 
planted  them,  we  cannot  take  them  out  again. 
Let  us  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  I  don't  like 
his  ways." 

But  some  of  the  younger  laughed.  "Oh,  it 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  give  one  a  chance  and  not  an- 
other. Let  them  both  show  us  what  they  can  do. 
Then,  when  their  flowers  come  up,  we  can  see 
which  we  like  the  best." 

Well,  the  stranger  set  to  work,  but  instead  of 
digging  up  more  land,  he  flung  the  seed  with  both 
hands  right  over  the  soft  soil.  And  before  long 
he  had  finished. 

"There  you  are,"  he  said,  dusting  his  hands. 
"Before  long  you  will  have  any  amount  of  flowers 
and  things.    Now  I  must  be  off." 

Time  went  on.  The  seeds  were  growing  fast, 
and  then  the  people  saw  that  they  should  have 
been  more  careful  about  that  second  man  and  his 
promises.  There  were  great  ugly  weeds  pushing 
up  everywhere:  dandelions,  stinging  nettles,  and 
all  kinds  of  rank  weeds  were  growing  in  the 
place  where  the  other  seeds  were  trying  to  make 
their  way. 

It  looked  as  though  the  primroses,  the  violets, 
and  the  daffodils,  would  have  no  chance  at  all, 
and  some  said,  ^  ^  Why  did  we  let  that  fellow  plant 
his  nasty  seeds'?" 

The  old  man  who  had  warned  them  was  just 
going  to  say,  "I  told  you  so,"  when  he  remem- 
bered in  time  that  was  a  little  unkind,  so  he  altered 
it  to,  "I  wonder  why  we  did!" 


THE  TWO  PLANTERS  89 

Yet  in  spite  of  all  the  weeds  might  do,  they 
could  not  quite  crowd  the  fair  flowers  out  of  sight, 
and  the  perfume  of  the  timid  little  violets  got 
through  somehow.  While  taller  and  taller  grew 
the  sunflowers  which  were  the  emblem  of  Love- 
right,  and  these  as  they  saw  the  sun  kept  their 
faces  always  turned  to  him  so  that  they  might 
reflect  his  smile. 

One  day,  the  people  found  Love-right  standing 
beside  his  flowers,  looking  very  sad. 

^'An  enemy  has  done  this,'^  he  said.  '^Do  you 
know  who  has  been  planting  all  these  weeds!" 

^^Why,"  was  the  reply,  ^'the  very  day  you  were 
here,  another  man  very  like  you  came.  He  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  sow  his  seeds,  so  we  let  him. 
This  is  the  result." 

' '  You  know  his  name  ? ' ' 

*  ^  No !  he  didn  't  give  us  his  name. ' ' 

*'I  know  who  it  was.  It  was  Work-spite.  He 
always  follows  me  and  tries  to  spoil  my  work 
of  bringing  happiness  to  people.  Now  we  must 
get  rid  of  these  weeds.  What  a  pity  I  didn't  warn 
you  about  letting  anyone  else  sow  seeds  here." 

While  the  stranger  and  the  people  set  to  work, 
I  remembered  how  these  two  are  always  coming 
to  the  hearts  of  little  people,  seeking  to  sow  their 
seed.  Love-right  is  your  better  self.  He  brings 
seeds  of  love  and  unselfish  deeds  that  will  shine 
bright  and  fair,  and  send  their  fragrance  far  and 
wide.  The  other  is  the  tempter  who  scatters  seeds 
of  rudeness,  ill-temper,  and  unkind  words  in  the 
heart. 

'^If  ever  old  Work-spite  comes  here  again," 
said  some  of  the  men.  '*we  will  tell  him  we  want 


90         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

no  more  of  Ms  weeds !''  And  Love-right  laughed 
merrily  as  he  said,  ''Yes,  good  seeds  mean  good 
deeds  in  the  end.  There's  nothing  that  will  make 
the  old  world  so  happy  and  bright." 


XX 

MAEK,  THE  MERBY 

SITTING  in  my  study  late  one  night,  I  was 
startled  by  a  gentleman  of  somewhat  unusual 
appearance.  He  stepped  down  from  the  book- 
shelves, and  with  a  polite  bow,  stood  in  the  light 
of  the  fire. 

*^Grood  evening!^'  he  said,  repeating  the  bow. 

*  ^  Good  evening ! "  I  replied.  ^  *  I  think  we  have 
met  before  somewhere,  but  your  name.  ..." 

'^My  name  is  Chuzzlewit;  Martin  Chuzzlewit, 
at  your  service,  sir. '  ^ 

^^Why,  of  course.  I  remember  you  now  quite 
well.  In  fact,  I  was  just  thinking  of  that  young 
friend  of  yours  when  you  came  in.  You  know 
whom  I  mean.  That  young  fellow  who  was  so 
cheerful,  so  merry;  and  in  these  days.  ..." 

*^0h!  you  mean  my  partner  and  benefactor, 
Mark  Tapley,  I  suppose?" 

*^ Exactly!  Could  you  refresh  my  memory. 
You  see,  he  was  such  a  delightful  fellow;  one  it 
was  a  real  pleasure  to  know.  And  there  are  some 
young  folk  to  whom  I  would  like  to  introduce 
him." 

Mr.  Chuzzlewit  blew  his  nose  very  violently,  and 
clearing  his  throat  he  began:  ^'Well,  Mark  was 
originally  employed  in  a  somewhat  subordinate 

91 


92         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

position  in  a  not  much-freqiiented  hostelry, 
and.  .  .  ,'' 

'^Pardon  me  a  moment!  I  am  snre  my  little 
friends  would  never  understand  all  that.  I  sup- 
pose we  might  say  that  Mark  was  a  kind  of  handy- 
man in  a  small  hotel  T' 

^^ Precisely!  That  is  just  what  I  said.  Well, 
his  one  object  in  life  was  to  be  happy,  whatever 
happened."  And  at  this  moment,  Mr.  Chuzzle- 
wit  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 
''Rather  good,  that?  'Happy  whatever  hap- 
pened!' And  I  didn't  intend  to  make  a  pun.  As 
I  was  saying,  because  he  found  his  work  too  easy, 
he  wanted  something  to  be  happy  about,  and  find- 
ing that  I  was  going  to  America  to  try  my  for- 
tunes there,  he  followed  me  to  London.  I  was 
extremely  poor  and  didn't  know  how  I  was  going 
to  pay  my  passage  but  what  do  you  think  he 
wanted  1  First  he  said  he  wanted  to  find  work,  to 
be  man-servant  to  someone,  and  the  poorer  the 
better;  the  harder  the  life,  the  happier  he  would 
be.  In  short,  he  wanted  to  go  with  me.  I  tried  to 
put  him  otf ,  and  said  that  I  simply  could  not  af- 
ford to  take  him.  But  he  said,  if  I  would  not  take 
him,  he  would  go  just  the  same.  And  being  bent 
on  being  cheerful,  he  would  take  the  craziest,  leak- 
iest, wretchedest  ship  he  could  find,  and  if  he  were 
lost  at  sea,  then,  said  he,  'There'll  be  a  drowned 
man  at  your  door,  always  a-knocking  double 
knocks  too!'  So  I  had  to  agree. 

"Well,  it  was  a  good  thing  for  me  I  did.  We 
were  in  the  steerage — the  poorest  and  cheapest 
part  of  the  ship,  and  I  was  so  ill  all  the  time,  what 
with  the  rolling  of  the  ship,  and  the  crowded  place 


MARK,  THE  MERRY  93 

we  had  to  occupy.  But  Mark!  Why,  bless  me, 
that 's  just  what  he  did  every  day.  He  was  a  bless- 
ing to  everybody.  He  looked  after  me,  and  as 
for  the  children  who  were  on  board,  why,  he 
played  with  them,  comforted  them,  helped  to  put 
them  to  bed.  .  .  .  But  perhaps  I  weary  you  ? ' ' 

*  *  Not  in  the  least ;  I  am  most  interested.  Please 
go  on.^' 

^'Well,  we  arrived  at  a  place  called  Eden, 
though  why  they  called  it  that,  I  cannot  under- 
stand. I  had  arranged  to  start  business  there, 
and  we  finished  that  part  of  the  journey  in  a  small 
steamer.  When  our  baggage  was  put  ashore,  I 
thought  we  had  reached  the  most  dismal  spot  on 
earth.  An  old  man  pointed  out  the  house  I  was  to 
live  in,  but  he  told  us  that  everybody  was  ill 
there..  He  was  ill.  His  sons  were  ill.  The  last 
man  who  came  had  died;  and  I  did  feel  happy. ^' 

''What  about  Mark!''  I  interrupted. 

**I'm  coming  to  him.  He  was  just  as  cheerful 
as  could  be,  and  when  we  found  the  house  hadn't 
any  door,  he  just  got  out  a  blanket  and  nailed  it 
up  for  one,  and  set  about  getting  things  unpacked, 
while  I  sat  down  and  just  cried  like  a  child. 

''Mark  looked  at  me,  and  said,  'Don't  do  that, 
sir.  Anything  but  that!  It  never  helped  man, 
woman,  or  child  over  the  lowest  fence  yet,  sir, 
and  it  never  will.'  He  had  got  our  things  un- 
packed, and  called  out,  'Here  we  are,  sir.  Every- 
thing in  its  proper  place.  Here's  the  salt  pork. 
Here's  the  biscuits.  Here's  the  blankets.  .  .  . 
Who  says  we  haven't  got  a  first-rate  fit-out?  I 
feel  as  if  I  was  a  cadet  gone  out  to  India,  and  my 
noble  father  was  chairman  of  the  Board  of  Direc- 


94         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

tors.  Supper's  ready,  a  supper  comprising  all  tlie 
delicacies  in  season.  Here  we  are,  sir,  all  com- 
plete. **For  what  we  are  going  to  receive,''  et 
cetera.  .  .  .  "WTiy,  bless  you,  sir,  it's  very  like  a 
gipsy  party.' 

^^Some  days  later,  we  got  things  going,  only  I 
fell  sick — Fever,  I  think.  But  Mark  said,  ^  A  touch 
of  fever?  I  da^resay,  but  bless  you,  that's  noth- 
ing. Wait  haK  a  minute  till  I  run  up  to  one  of  our 
neighbours,  and  ask  what's  best  to  take  for  it; 
and  to-morrow,  you'll  find  yourself  as  strong  as 
ever  again.  .  .  .  I  won 't  be  gone  a  minute.  Don't 
give  in  while  I'm  away,  whatever  you  do!' 

^^I  watched  Mark  as  he  left  the  door,  and  I 
heard  him  say  to  himself,  ^Now,  Mr.  Tapley  (giv- 
ing himself  a  tremendous  blow  in  the  chest  by  way 
of  reviver)  just  you  attend  to  what  I've  got  to 
say.  Things  are  looking  about  as  bad  as  they  can 
look,  young  man.  You'll  not  have  such  another 
opportunity  of  showing  your  jolly  disposition,  my 
fine  fellow,  as  long  as  you  live.  And  therefore, 
Tapley,  now's  your  time  to  come  out  strong; 
or  Never!'  And  Mark's  cheerfulness  pulled  us 
through  all  our  difficulties,"  said  Mr.  Chuzzlewit. 

*^Yes,"  I  added,  '*but  do  you  think  my  little 
friends  will  understand  all  this  1 ' ' 

^^Sure!  And  when  they  are  older,  they  will 
make  Mark's  acquaintance  for  themselves.  Mean- 
time, tell  them  from  me — or  from  Mark — that  the 
worst  thing  in  life  is  getting  sorry  for  yourself, 
and  the  best  is  being  sorry  for  other  people,  and 
doing  what  you  can  to  gladden  their  hearts.  Keep 
smiling,  even  when  it  hurts ! ' ' 


XXI 

GROWING 

IP  you  go  about  with  your  eyes  open  in  the  early 
Spring  you  will  notice  that  something  is  hap- 
pening every  day.  That  sounds  strange,  but  it  is 
true.  It  is  not  everyone  who  goes  about  with  his 
eyes  open,  for  some  people  may  stare  at  a  thing, 
yet  never  see  it. 

But  what  is  happening?  Well,  when  the  year 
first  came  in,  it  was  quite  dark  by  teatime,  but 
now  we  can  do  without  a  light  for  a  much  longer 
time,  so  the  days  have  been  growing  and  gettrag 
longer. 

Look  at  the  parks  and  the  gardens,  and  you 
will  see  the  change  there.  Not  very  long  ago,  the 
trees  looked  as  miserable  as  possible.  They  were 
bare  and  cold,  so  that  when  the  chill  winds  blew, 
one  could  almost  hear  the  trees  say,  **  Please  leave 
us  alone !  We  are  so  cold,  and  we  don 't  want  to 
be  tossed  about  any  more.'* 

All  that  is  changed.  The  trees  have  got  their 
Spring  costumes,  and  very  proud  they  are  of  their 
fine  green  clothes.  And  as  though  not  to  be  out- 
done, the  earth  has  decked  her  garments  with  the 
beautiful  flowers. 

Those  flowers  were  funny!  You  know,  first  of 
all,  they  sent  up  a  little  shoot,  just  like  a  peri- 

95 


96         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

scope,  as  though  to  see  what  was  goiiig  on  on  the 
surface.  Then  they  kept  on  growing  till  at  last 
the  flowers  opened  their  eyes,  and  smiled  on  the 
world.  Trees  and  flowers  have  both  been  growing, 
all  through  the  gloomy  days. 

Then  some  of  you  have  been  doing  the  same 
thing.  You  are  bigger,  broader,  stronger,  and 
kinder,  than  you  were  a  year  ago.    That  is  fine!. 

Have  you  seen  that  picture  of  two  little  girls, 
standing  back  to  back,  while  their  sister  who  is 
bigger  than  either  of  them,  is  seeing  which  is  the 
taller?  She  has  put  a  ruler  across  their  heads. 
But  one  child  is  about  five  inches  shorter  than  the 
other,  so  she  is  standing  on  her  toes.  The  big  sis- 
ter, however,  has  noticed  this,  and  she  says,  ' '  No 
tipty  toes!'^ 

She  evidently  thinks  the  tiny  one  is  not  quite 
fair,  but  I  like  that  little  child  for  wanting  to  be  as, 
big  as  her  sister.  She  is  making  the  best  of  her 
size  and  herself!  And  if  there  is  one  thing  she 
wants  more  than  another  it  is  to  be  big! 

Do  you  ever  measure  yourself?  I  used  to  know 
a  little  girl  who  was  fond  of  being  measured,  and 
on  her  nursery  wall,  there  were  quite  a  number  of 
marks.  I  do  not  mean  finger-marks,  though  they 
do  get  on  walls.  But  these  marks  were  to  show 
how  big  she  was  on  the  date  which  her  father  put 
opposite  to  each  of  them,  and  they  could  both  see 
how  much  she  had  grown  since  she  was  last  meas- 
ured. 

I  want  you  to  measure  yourself,  not  back  to  back 
with  one  another,  nor  even  against  the  wall,  for 
there  is  more  than  one  way  of  growing.  We  have 
minds  as  well  as  bodies,  and  souls  as  well  as  both. 


GROWING  97 

Ask  yourself,  *^How  much  have  I  grown  f 
'*Am  I  taller  than  a  year  agoT'  Good!  That 
shows  you  have  been  going  to  bed  willingly  when 
mother  said  it  was  time,  and  that  you  have  been 
playing  well  after  school-hours. 

' '  Am  I  wiser  ? ' '  Better  still !  It  proves  that  you 
have  been  trying  to  work  as  well  as  play,  and  that 
when  your  teacher  asked  you  to  learn  something, 
you  did  not  say  to  yourself,  ^^Oh,  bother!''  but 
went  and  tried  to  do  it. 

^  ^  Am  I  better  than  I  used  to  be  1  More  thought- 
ful, obedient  and  kind?"  That  shows  that  you 
have  been  trying  to  follow  the  noble  and  true  and 
that  is  best  of  all. 

There  are  many  things  that  help  us  to  grow; 
Before  the  spring  flowers  came,  while  the  days 
were  yet  gloomy  and  dark,  someone  went  out  to 
plant  the  bulbs.  The  ground  was  damp,  and  the 
hole  into  which  they  were  put  was  cold  and  dark. 
They  had  been  far  more  comfortable  in  the  shop. 
Then  the  rain  came  and  drenched  the  soil,  but  the 
little  bulbs  did  not  want  to  get  up,  and  when  the 
wind  came  and  whistled,  they  just  turned  over 
again  and  went  to  sleep.  But  after  awhile,  the 
sun  smiled  on  the  earth  and  they  felt  they  could 
not  lie  buried  there  any  longer,  so  up  they  came, 
happy  and  gay. 

It  is  much  the  same  for  us.  We  have  chill 
winds  of  disappointment  and  showers  that  damp 
our  spirits.  We  have  to  make  our  way  through 
difficulties,  just  as  the  shoot  has  to  come  up 
through  the  soil.  But  the  great  Gardener  knows 
what  is  best  for  us,  and  showers  and  sun  are  all 
meant  to  help  us  to  grow. 


98         PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

To  grow  tall  is  good,  to  grow  wise  is  better, 
but  to  grow  like  our  Pattern  is  best  of  all.  So 
before  you  go  to  sleep  every  night,  measure  your- 
self with  Him,  and  ask,  ^'How  much  have  I 
grown  to-day  r' 


xxn 

CESAR'S  COLLAR 

KING  EDWARD   used  to  have  a  favourite  ter- 
rier that  went  everywhere  with  his  royal 
master,  and  on  the  dog's  collar  were  the  words, 
**I  am  Caesar:  I  belong  to  the  king." 

That  makes  a  fine  motto  for  boys  and  girls,  and 
there  was  once  a  boy  who  carried  it  in  his  heart. 
And  it  was  like  this: 

The  land  where  he  lived  was  in  danger.  The 
king's  soldiers  were  few  though  his  foes  were 
many,  and  when  an  invasion  was  threatened,  the 
king  sent  his  heralds  through  every  town  and 
village  calling  the  men  to  the  colours  to  help  to 
save  their  homes. 

Now  Olaf  heard  one  of  these  heralds,  and  when 
he  saw  the  long  line  of  men  waiting  to  be  enrolled, 
he  took  his  place  with  them  in  the  queue  outside 
the  recruiting  office.  Some  of  them  began  to  laugh 
good  humouredly  at  the  boy,  and  one  said,  *^You 
run  home  to  your  mother,  little  lad,  and  wait  till 
you  grow.    You  are  no  use!" 

But  the  boy  took  it  all  in  good  part.  He  kept 
both  his  temper  and  his  place  in  the  line,  and 
waited  his  chance  with  the  rest. 

They  say  that  all  things  come  to  him  who  waits, 
and  at  last,  Olaf 's  turn  came.    He  stood  before  a 

99 


100»       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

table  at  which  a  stem  old  general  sat  with  some 
other  officers,  taking  names. 

*^Well,  my  boy,''  said  the  general,  *'what  da 
you  want?" 

^^ Please,  sir,  the  king  wants  men,  and  I've 
come. ' ' 

The  scarred  old  warrior  did  not  laugh  as  the 
men  outside  had  done,  but  there  was  just  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye  as  he  said,  ^^Good!  Now  I  want  you 
to  answer  a  few  questions.  You  know  a  soldier 
must  always  obey  orders.  Are  you  always  obedi- 
entr' 

Olaf  remembered  that  sometimes  he  had  not 
done  just  what  mother  had  asked  or  what  his 
father  had  told  him,  and  as  his  cheeks  began  to 
burn  he  replied,  '^I'm  afraid  I'm  not,  sir;  at 
least,  not  always." 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute  while  the  gen- 
eral's pen  scratched,  and  then  he  looked  up  and 
said,  ^^A  soldier  must  be  unselfish.  His  duty 
must  come  first,  and  he  may  have  even  to  die  for 
someone  else.    Are  you  unselfish?" 

Olaf  began  to  feel  more  uncomfortable  than 
ever.  He  had  never  thought  that  being  a  soldier 
of  the  king  meant  all  this. 

But  the  officer  did  not  seem  to  notice,  and  he 
went  on,  *^Then  he  must  be  truthful,  brave  and 
pure,  never  shirking  the  difficult  or  the  disagree- 
able. .  .  .  Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

The  boy's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

*^My  lad,  although  you  cannot  say  Yes  to  my 
questions,  I  believe  you  wish  you  could.  Look! 
I  will  put  your  name  down  on  this  roll  of  the 
king's  men.    But  he  does  not  want  them  all  at  the 


CESAR'S  COLLAR  101 

front ;  some  are  to  stay  at  home,  though  he  wants 
every  man  for  his  service.  Home  is  your  place. 
And  every  time  you  are  tempted  to  be  disobedient, 
selfish  or  untrue,  I  want  you  to  pull  yourself  up 
and  say,  ^  I  cannot  do  that ;  I  belong  to  the  king !  ^ 
That  will  keep  you  loyal  to  your  sovereign,  and  it 
will  help  you  to  be  valiant  and  true.*' 


XXIII 
THE  QUEST  OF  THE  SILVER  KEY 

DO  you  know  who  the  Incas  are  ?  They  are  not 
children  who  do  their  homework  carelessly 
— though  sometimes  they  are,  though  it  is  spelt 
differently.  The  Incas  were  Indians  who  once 
lived  in  Peru,  and  had  vast  silver  mines. 

Well,  Jack  had  been  reading-  about  them  one 
evening,  and  he  was  just  closing  the  book  when  a 
strangely  dressed  Indian  stepped  out  and  said, 

^^At  last,  0  great  white  master,  I  have  found 
you. ' ' 

Now  Jack  liked  the  way  the  man  spoke,  for 
everyone  likes  politeness,  so  he  replied, 

* '  Have  you  been  searching  long  ?  I  have  always 
lived  here." 

''Yea,  many  moons,  white  master,"  said  the 
other.  ''And  now,  if  you  will  but  bring  a  sack 
of  silver — which  can  be  had  for  the  seeking,  then 
the  silver  key  can  be  bought.  This  will  open  the 
doors  of  the  kingdom,  and  it  shall  be  your  own. 
Then  you  shall  reign  over  us  as  our  chief.  Seek 
and  you  shall  find,  and  the  kingdom  shall  be 
yours." 

With  that  the  Indian  disappeared.  Jack 
thought  a  minute.  There  was  a  sack  in  the  wood- 
shed, so  he  went  off,  and  he  took  with  him  an  axe 

102 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  SHAVER  KEY     103 

lest  he  should  meet  any  foes,  though  what  he 
expected  to  meet  in  his  quest  for  the  silver,  I  can- 
not tell  you.  The  moon  was  shining,  so  that  it  was 
bright  as  day,  and  Jack  trudged  off  manfully,  to 
see  where  he  could  fill  his  sack.  H!e  had  not  gone 
more  than  a  hundred  miles  or  so  when  he  saw  at 
his  feet  a  great  basin  of  molten  metal,  shimmering 
and  glimmering  in  the  moonlight.  There  was  no 
path  down  to  it,  but  he  crossed  a  field,  clambered 
over  some  rocks  and  stooped  down  to  fill  the  sack. 
But  to  his  disgust,  he  found  that  it  was  what  you 
have  guessed,  though  what  he  had  never  thought 
possible:  it  was  water — only  water  on  which  the 
moon  was  shining. 

He  was  a  little  disappointed,  but  he  got  back  to 
the  white  road  and  tramped  on  in  quest  of  the 
treasure.  **Seek  and  you  shall  find,  and  the  king- 
dom shall  be  yours.''  The  words  of  the  Indian 
buzzed  in  the  boy's  brain.  Before  long,  he  espied 
a  clump  of  trees  with  gleaming  silver  leaves. 

**Now,"  he  thought,  ^' shall  I  climb  up  or  cut 
the  tree  down  first?  Why,  of  course  I  have  the 
axe.    What  a  good  thing  I  brought  it. ' ' 

So  he  cut  away  at  the  trunk  and  soon  with  a 
mighty  crash,  the  tree  came  down.  But  when  the 
boy  went  with  his  sack  to  fill  it,  he  saw  it  was  a 
silver  birch,  and  the  leaves  were  only  grey.  On 
he  went  again.  And  joy!  there  in  front  of  him 
was  a  hill  of  silver,  the  summit  shining  like  the 
armour  of  a  knight.  He  started  to  run  towards  it, 
saying  to  himself: 

*^Why,  I  shall  be  able  to  fill  as  many  sacks  as 
I  like  now.  The  Indian  was  right :  Seek  and  you 
shall  find,  and  the  kingdom  shall  be  yours." 


104       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

It  was  harder  work  climbing  the  hill  than  he 
thought,  but  at  last — and  it  is  wonderful  how 
many  hard  things  we  can  do  if  only  we  take  a 
step  at  a  time  and  plod  on — he  was  near  the  top 
and  at  the  point  where  the  silver  began.  But  to 
his  horror,  he  found  that  it  was  not  silver  at  all, 
only  frozen  snow.  The  moon  had  played  him 
another  trick !  He  flung  down  the  sack.  He  threw 
away  his  axe.  He  resolved  that  he  would  waste 
no  more  time  on  such  an  errand,  but  would  go  back 
to  bed  before  he  caught  cold.  However,  wonder- 
ful to  tell,  as  he  was  on  his  way  home,  he  met  an 
angel — at  least,  he  looked  like  an  angel,  for  his 
raiment  was  white  and  glistening. 

^^Well,  my  man,"  said  he,  *^and  where  are  you 
going!'' 

Jack  was  very  pleased  to  hear  him  say  *^my 
man,"  instead  of  ''little  boy,"  and  so  he  told  the 
angel  all  about  his  quest  for  the  silver  key. 

''Ah,"  said  the  angel  at  length.  "What  a  good 
thing  we  met.  Why,  I  have  the  very  thing  you 
are  looking  for. ' ' 

"No?"  said  Jack,  thinking  he  must  be  dream- 
ing. 

"Yes!"  replied  the  other.  And  putting  his 
hand  in  the  folds  of  his  cloak,  he  drew  out  a  pack- 
age. Carefully  unwrapping  the  cloth  in  which  it 
was  wound,  the  angel  came  at  last  to  a  book,  and 
in  the  middle  of  the  book  was  a  slender  silver  key, 
engraved  with  the  words,  "Love  to  God." 

"This  is  the  key  you  were  seeking,  and  it  will 
open  the  kingdom  for  you,"  said  the  angel  with  a 
smile. 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  SILVER  KEY     105 

*^But  where  is  the  door,  now  I  have  the  kejV* 
asked  the  boy. 

The  angel  pointing  to  the  open  book  read  aloud, 
*^If  thou  seekest  her  as  silver,  and  searchest  for 
her  as  for  hid  treasures,  then  thou  shalt  under- 
stand the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  find  the  knowledge 
of  God." 

Jack  followed  the  angePs  hand  as  he  stretched 
it  forth,  and  there  stood  the  door.  It  was  marked 
LIFE,  and  as  he  slipped  the  key  into  the  lock,  the 
door  swung  open  on  the  most  beautiful  palace  the 
boy  had  ever  seen.  There  were  other  doors  lead- 
ing from  the  entrance  hall,  and  treasure-chests 
filled  each  apartment. 

The  angel  smiled  again  as  Jack  looked  wonder- 
ingly  about  him  eagerly  reading  the  gold  plates 
that  showed  the  contents  of  each:  Joy,  Content- 
ment, Courage,  Honour,  Happiness.  These  were 
only  a  few  of  them,  and  to  his  delight.  Jack  found 
that  his  key  opened  every  lock. 

**Say,  that  old  Indian  knew  something,  when 
he  sent  me  on  this  quest,  didn't  heT'  cried  the  lad. 
' '  Seek  and  you  shall  find,  and  the  kingdom  shall 
be  yours. '* 

''Yes,''  replied  the  angel,  ''he  was  right,  and 
love  to  God  is  the  key  that  will  open  every  pre- 
cious thing  to  you  that  the  world  contains. ' ' 


XXIV 
GOD'S  GARDEN 

THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  king  who  was 
greatly  beloved  by  his  people,  and  nothing 
pleased  him  more  than  to  receive  from  them  some 
tokens  of  their  love.  And  because  they  knew  he 
was  very  fond  of  flowers,  although  the  royal  gar- 
dens were  ablaze  with  colour  all  summer,  they 
often  sent  to  the  palace  baskets  of  choice  blooms 
they  had  grown  themselves.  This  made  the  king's 
heart  glad.  It  shows  what  a  lot  of  pleasure  a 
little  kindness  can  give  to  others. 

Baskets  and  bunches  came  every  day.  Some  of 
them  had  nicely-written  messages  with  them  for 
the  king  to  read.  But  for  all  that,  the  king  was  not 
altogether  satisfied,  for  he  sometimes  wondered  if 
the  people  really  meant  the  kind  things  they 
said.  He  resolved  to  find  out.  ^^If  they  are  gen- 
uinely true-hearted  towards  me,*'  he  said  to  him- 
self, '^then  they  will  be  the  same  to  everyone. 
Kind  words  ought  to  mean  a  kind  heart.'' 

Without  a  word  to  anyone,  the  king  laid  aside 
his  crown  and  sceptre.  He  put  on  a  long  grey 
cloak  that  covered  him  from  head  to  foot.  Then 
he  got  a  wide-brimmed  hat  that  came  well  over 
his  face,  and  with  a  pair  of  dark  spectacles  on,  he 
made  sure  that  no  one  would  know  him.  So  he 
set  off  on  his  journey. 

106 


GOD'S  GARDEN  107 

The  road  was  dusty,  and  soon  the  king  got 
dusty  too,  so  that  he  looked  just  like  a  pilgrim. 
*^Now  is.  the  time  to  try  my  plan,^'  he  thought 
with  a  smile.  So  he  stopped  at  a  house  and  said, 
**I  am  tired  and  thirsty,  and  have  come  from  far. 
Could  you  kindly  give  a  pilgrim  a  bowl  of  milk!" 

The  woman,  thinking  it  was  some  poor  wan- 
derer, scowled  as  she  said,  ^'Oh  no!  There's  a 
spring  farther  on.  You  can  get  some  water  there, 
and  sit  down  while  you  drink  it,  if  you  are  tired. ' ' 
And  she  slammed  the  door. 

That  might  be  good  enough  for  a  pilgrim,  but 
the  king  could  not  help  wishing  she  had  not  sent 
him  those  flowers  with  the  loving  message  of  the 
day  before. 

He  went  on  to  another  house,  and  there  he  asked 
for  a  morsel  of  bread.  But  the  man  told  him 
there  was  a  baker's  shop  in  the  village  where  he 
could  buy  as  much  bread  as  he  wanted,  for  said 
he,  ^*We  can't  give  bread  to  idle  fellows.  Be- 
gone!"   And  again  the  door  was  shut  in  his  face. 

The  king  went  on,  very  unhappy  now,  and 
rather  sorry  he  had  come,  for  he  was  disap- 
pointed. Suddenly  he  stopped.  * '  I  'm  wrong, ' '  he 
said.  **They  don't  mean  to  be  unkind.  Perhaps 
they  are  too  poor  to  give  food  away.  I'll  try^ 
another  plan. "  So  at  the  next  house,  which  had  a 
pretty  garden  at  the  side,  he  said,  *^  Could  you 
spare  a  few  flowers  for  a  lonely  pilgrim?  They 
would  make  the  road  seem  easier."  But  the  man 
made  some  excuse  about  them  being  wanted  for  the 
market.  So  the  king  tried  another  house,  and 
another,  always  seeing  that  it  was  a  house  with  a 
garden,  but  at  the  last  one,  the  woman  said,  ^*Do 


108       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

you  think  we  Ve  nothing  else  to  do  but  grow  flow- 
ers to  give  away?  We  have  to  work.  If  you  want 
flowers,  grow  them  or  buy  them !  ^  ^  And  her  hus- 
band nodded  saying,  *' Quite  right!'' 

They  saw  him  sad,  and  tears  up-filled  his  eyes. 
Then  as  he  raised  his  hand  to  dry  those  drops, 
back  fell  the  cloak  of  sombre  grey  and  lo !  a  robe 
of  royal  purple  lay  beneath.  It  was  no  stranger- 
pilgrim,  but  the  king.    And  he  had  asked  in  vain ! 

If  Christ  the  King  came  to  your  souPs  garden 
would  you  have  any  flowers  to  offer  Him!  Ask 
mother  the  kind  He  likes  best  besides  thought- 
fulness,  thankfulness,  gentleness,  and  love. 


XXV 

THE  AWAKENING  OF  ARISTOBULUS 

^f^HEEE  were  two  great  things  about  Aris- 
-■'  tobulus.  One  was  his  name,  which  is  a  big  one, 
and  the  other  was  his  opinion  of  himself,  which 
was  bigger  still.  But  though  he  felt  very  im- 
portant, that  did  not  make  him  better-liked  by  the 
townsfolk.  When  he  went  out,  he  would  strut 
along  like  a  peacock,  and  if  a  poor  man  happened 
to  cross  his  path,  Aristobulus  would  say  scorn- 
fully, ^  ^  Out  of  my  way,  dog ! ' ' 

No  wonder  people  crossed  the  street  when  they 
saw  him  coming.  Even  the  dogs  of  the  blind  men 
would  try  to  tug  their  masters  out  of  reach  of  the 
proud  man's  tongue.  And  the  wise  used  to  wag 
their  heads  and  say,  Pride  goeth  before  a  fall! 

One  day  this  came  true,  though  no  one  seemed 
to  know  just  how  it  happened.  Somebody  had 
thrown  a  banana  skin  on  the  pavement  (it  could 
not  have  been  a  girl,  for  girls  are  too  thoughtful ; 
and  no  boy  would  do  anything  so  stupid  and  dan- 
gerous). However,  Aristobulus  must  have  slipped 
on  it  in  some  way,  and  he  hurt  his  leg  so  badly 
that  he  found  he  could  not  get  up. 

He  was  mad  with  pain  and  he  roared  for  help. 
But  then  people  were  so  used  to  seeing  Aris- 
tobulus in  a  temper  and  to  hearing  him  shout,  that 
they  took  no  notice,  and  there  he  lay.    Fortunate- 

109 


110       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

ly,  however,  after  some  time,  a  man  in  a  shabby- 
coat  who  was  coming  along  on  the  other  side  saw 
him,  took  pity  on  the  proud  Aristobulus,  and  went 
over. 

^*Have  you  hurt  yourself,  sirf 

**0f  course  I  have !  Think  I'm  amusing  myself 
lying  here  !  "  he  growled.  * '  Help  me  up !  Go  on ! 
Don't  stand  there  gaping  at  me  as  though  I  were 
an  animal  in  the  Zoo.'' 

The  peasant  tried  first  of  all  to  bind  up  the 
injured  limb,  and  all  the  time,  Aristobulus  was 
moaning  with  pain  or  else  blaming  the  poor  fel- 
low for  his  clumsiness. 

^*How  shall  I  get  you  home?"  he  asked  at 
length.  **You  ought  not  to  try  to  walk,  even  if 
you  could." 

^^And  I  couldn't  even  if  I  ought,"  replied  the 
other.  '^Go  and  call  a  carriage  for  me,  and  for 
goodness'  sake,  do  hurry  up  about  it.  Think  I 
want  to  stay  here  on  these  hard  flags  all  day  I" 

There  was  only  one  place  in  the  town  where 
carriages  could  be  hired  so  the  peasant  ran  off  as 
hard  as  he  could.  But  the  owner  was  a  very  cau- 
tious man.  '  ^  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ?"  he  asked. 
^'And  who  is  going  to  pay  me?  You  don't  look 
as  though  you  could  afford  to  ride." 

That  was  not  a  very  kind  thing  to  say,  but  the 
peasant  very  patiently  explained  that  it  was  not 
for  himself,  but  for  Aristobulus  who  would  cer- 
tainly pay. 

**What!  for  him?  He  called  me  a  dog  yester- 
day. Not  much!  Let  him  walk  home,"  said  the 
man,  and  no  carriage  would  he  send. 

What  was  to  be  done?    The  peasant  was  strong, 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  ARISTOBULUS     111 

but  he  did  not  think  he  could  carry  Aristobulus 
home,  even  if  he  would  let  him.  So  after  turning 
it  over  in  his  mind,  he  managed  to  borrow  a 
wheelbarrow,  and  he  trundled  the  rich  merchant 
home  in  that ! 

The  doctor  set  the  broken  thigh,  though  Aris- 
tobulus was  fuming  and  storming  all  the  time.  But 
the  doctor  took  no  notice  of  his  rudeness,  and 
having  done  all  he  could  for  him,  he  settled  his 
patient  for  the  night. 

Sleep  was  impossible.  But  as  he  tossed  in  pain, 
two  things  kept  coming  back  to  mind  and  Aris- 
tobulus could  not  get  rid  of  them.  One  was  the 
kindness  of  both  the  peasant  and  the  doctor;  the 
other  was  the  thought  that  he  had  been  extremely 
rude  to  them  and  very  ungrateful  for  all  they  had 
tried  to  do  for  him.  So  first  thing  next  morning, 
he  sent  his  servant  to  find  the  peasant  who  had 
been  such  a  friend  in  need. 

Now  the  peasant  was  on  his  way  to  ask  how 
Aristobulus  was,  so  the  servant  ushered  him  into 
his  master's  presence. 

The  sick  man  looked  up,  and  beckoning  the 
other  to  approach  he  said,  ^'I  did  not  thank  you 
for  helping  me  yesterday.  Tell  me  why  you  were 
so  kind.'' 

The  peasant  shuffled  from  one  foot  to  another, 
and  turned  his  hat  about  in  his  hands.  Then  at 
last  he  said,  ^'The  Book,  sire,  the  Book." 

*  ^  What  do  you  mean  1    I  don 't  understand  you. ' ' 

**It  says,  'Love  your  enemies.  .  .  .'  '' 

* *But  I'm  not  your  enemy,  my  man.  I  have  not 
seen  you  before.  And  yet  .  .  .  and  yet  your  face 
seems  familiar.    What  is  your  name?" 


112       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

*^Karl  Saviska,  sire." 

A  cloud  passed  over  the  face  of  the  merchant. 
Then  he  said,  ''You  are  not  the  Saviska  whose 
farm  was  sold  last  year  for  rent  ? ' ' 

The  man  nodded,  looking  very  uncomfortable, 
and  fell  to  studying  the  pattern  of  the  costly  car- 
pet. 

**And  you  knew  I  turned  you  out?  Yet  you 
came  to  my  assistance !  Karl,  you've  been  a  true 
friend  to  me,  and  you've  taught  me  a  lesson.  I 
shall  be  proud  and  selfish  no  more.  I  will  try  to 
make  amends  to  you."  And  he  was  as  good  as 
his  word.  Something  in  Aristobulus  had  awak- 
ened ! 


XXVI 
THE  BEARDS  TAIL 

THIS  is  a  tale  about  a  bear's  tail,  but  if  you 
have  been  to  the  Zoo,  you  must  have  noticed 
that  the  funniest  thing  about  a  bear  is — that  he 
hasn  't  one.  Now  the  lion,  the  kangaroo,  even  the 
monkey.  .  .  .  But  the  poor  bear  looks  quite  bare, 
just  as  though  he  had  lost  something.  Has  he? 
Did  he  have  a  tail  once?  The  story  says  he  had, 
and  like  all  real  stories  it  begins  ^^Once  upon  a 
time. ' ' 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  bear  roaming 
about,  looking  very  miserable.  Perhaps  he  was 
cross  too — I  have  heard  of  people  being  as  cross 
as  a  bear.  The  truth  was  that  like  all  bears,  he 
was  very  fond  of  honey — like  boys  are — and  girls. 
And  the  other  bears  being  fond  of  it  too  there  was 
not  a  bit  to  be  found.  Just  then  a  bird  that  had 
been  soaring  over  the  hills  on  a  message  for  the 
Prince  of  the  Fairies,  spied  him.  So  she  came 
wheeling  down  and  stopped  just  by  the  bear. 

^^ Morning,  Ben,''  said  she.  (I  didn't  tell  you 
that  his  name  was  Ben  Bruin). 

The  bear  growled  something.  He  might  have 
been  a  boy. 

^  *  You  don't  look  very  sweet  this  morning.  Why, 
you  are  just  like  some  of  the  mortals  I  have  met, 
First  thing  in  the  morning  they.  ..." 

113 


114       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

' '  I  don 't  feel  very  sweet,  ^ '  interrupted  the  bear. 
^ '  If  you  had  been  hunting  round  for  a  little  honey 
like  I  have  for  days  and  days,  what  would  you 
feel  liker' 

The  bird  just  whistled  to  herself  for  a  minute. 

**  Honey,  did  you, say  I  I  never  touch  it.  But 
what  a  good  thing  we  met.  I  think  I  can  put  you 
in  the  way  of  some,  though  I  cannot  put  it  in  your 
way.    See  1    But  you  will  have  to  climb  for  it ! ' ' 

So  she  told  him  that  flying  over  the  hill,  she 
noticed  a  lot  of  bees  round  a  cleft  in  the  white 
rock. 

**And,"  she  added,  quite  wisely,  *^  where  there 
are  bees  you  may  find  honey.  Not  that  I  know 
much  about  them,''  she  added.  ^^Bees  are  too 
fond  of  leaving  a  sting  behind  them,  like  people 
with  nasty  tempers.    Well,  what  do  you  say?" 

^*I  think  I'll  have  a  try,"  replied  the  bear. 
^^ Good-bye,  I'm  off." 

Now  Ben  Bruin  was  rather  proud  of  the  fact 
that  he  could  walk  upright  like  men  do,  but  he 
found  that  it  was  no  use  trying  to  get  up  the  hill 
like  that.  In  fact,  the  bird  was  right.  He  would 
have  to  climb  for  it.  So  he  set  to  work  with  might 
and  main — that  means  on  all  fours,  hands  and 
knees.  And  I  find  that  we  can  always  climb  best 
like  that :  working  with  our  hands,  but  sometimes 
going  down  on  our  knees  to  pray. 

But  try  as  he  would,  he  did  not  get  on  at  all 
well.  He  was  rather  short  of  breath  and  the  hill 
was  steep.  And  as  sure  as  he  sat  down  to  rest 
he  slid  down  too !  By  mid-day  he  was  only  half- 
way to  the  rock.  But  as  he  held  on  to  a  young 
sapling,  he  saw  something  shining  on  his  paw.    He 


THE  BEAR'S  TAIL  115 

looked  again.  Then  he  looked  at  his  other  paws. 
Yes,  on  each  paw  he  saw  something  he  had  forgot- 
ten. He  had  hooks  on  them — claws!  So  he  put 
them  all  out  and  he  found  that  by  digging  them 
into  the  ground  he  could  get  up  ever  so  much 
better.  And  when  he  saw  a  fallen  tree  right  across 
one  of  the  steepest  bits  of  the  hill,  he  walked  up 
this  without  any  trouble. 

At  last  he  got  to  the  white  rock,  but  the  cleft 
was  high  up  and  he  would  still  have  to  climb.  He 
tried,  and  he  tried,  and  he  tried  again.  Then  he 
discovered  that  by  putting  out  all  his  hooks,  he 
could  pull  himself  up  from  one  ledge  to  another. 
And  there,  sure  enough,  was  the  biggest  store  of 
honey  he  had  ever  seen.  Some  bees  were  there 
too  and  they  did  not  like  him  coming.  But  Bruin 
did  not  mind,  and  filling  his  arms  with  honeycomb, 
he  made  off. 

Hie  was  careful  to  get  some  distance  from  the 
rock  before  he  even  tasted  the  honey.  But  at  last 
when  he  thought  he  was  safe,  he  sat  down.  He 
had,  however,  forgotten  the  lessons  he  ought  to 
have  learned  on  the  way  up,  for  he  did  more  than 
sit  down.  He  slid  down!  Yes!  he  slipped  and 
slipped,  just  as  though  he  were  on  a  toboggan. 
How  he  kept  his  balance  or  how  he  kept  the  honey 
I  can't  tell.  And,  didn't  he  shout  with  pain?  The 
other  bears  heard  the  noise  and  they  all  came  to 
watch.  And  when  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
some  of  them  helped  him  up. 

^'Why,  Ben  Bruin,''  said  one,  ** where 's  your 
tail?" 

Ben  looked.  **I  must  have  lost  it  on  the  way; 
but  look,  boys,  I've  got  the  honey.    It  was  worth 


116       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

the  climb.  There's  plenty  more.  I  like  to  share 
a  good  thing  when  I  can. ' ' 

So  the  rest  of  the  bears  went  off  too.  Whether 
they  did  the  same  as  Ben  Bruin  and  came  down 
the  same  way  or  not,  I  do  not  know.  But  it  is  true 
that,  to  this  day,  bears  have  no  tails  except  those 
that  people  tell  about  them. 

This  is  true  too.  To  get  the  honey  we  have  to 
climb!  That  means  we  must  strive  hard  to  be 
unselfish,  pure  and  true.  But  there  is  something 
else  worth  knowing,  that  just  as  the  Bible  says 
about  Israel,  ^*He  made  him  to  suck  honey  out  of 
the  rocks,''  so  God  makes  it  possible  for  you  and 
me  to  get  sweetness  out  of  the  hard  things,  if 
we  do  them  for  His  sake.  Fancy  that:  we  must 
learn  our  arithmetic,  geography  and  grammar, 
so  that  we  may  be  able  to  work  better  for  Him 
when  we  grow  up.  We  must  do  the  little  duties 
of  each  day  for  His  sake.  And  then  we  shall  find 
sweetness  in  hard  things.  The  wise  man  who 
tried  to  serve  God  in  this  way  found  that  obeying 
God's  word  made  the  commandments  ^'Sweeter 
than  honey  and  the  honeycomb."  And  as  Ben 
Bruin  found  we  too  shall  prove  that  to  climb  is 
worth  while. 


XXVII 
AEE  YOUR  FEET  SHOD! 

THERE  was  a  gentleman  staying  in  a  London 
hotel,  and  on  his  way  down  to  breakfast  one 
morning,  he  met  one  of  the  porters  who  said, 
*^Good  morning,  sir!" 

That  was  not  very  unusual,  but  the  gentleman 
noticed  that  the  porter  was  looking  at  him  in  a 
very  curious  manner.  So  all  the  rest  of  the  way 
downstairs,  he  wondered  what  it  meant,  and 
looked  at  himself  in  a  long  mirror  he  passed, 
thinking  that  he  must  have  forgotten  his  collar 
or  something. 

He  could  not  see  anything  wrong,  but  that  is 
not  surprising.  We  can  seldom  see  our  own  faults 
though  other  people's  are  quite  plainly  seen. 

While  he  was  at  breakfast,  one  of  the  waiters 
asked  him,  *^Have  you  got  your  boots,  sirT' 

^*Yes;  I  have  them  on.  Look  here,  what's  the 
matter  with  everyone  this  morning?  It  isn't  the 
1st  of  April,  is  it?" 

But  the  other  simply  smiled  and  said  nothing. 

After  breakfast,  this  gentleman  went  into  the 
hall,  and  then  he  understood.  There  was  another 
gentleman,  looking  very  angry.  His  face  was  red 
with  rage.  And  what  do  you  think  was  the  matter? 

He  had  one  boot  on,  and  he  was  holding  another 
117 


118       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

in  his  hand,  so  that  he  had  to  stand  on  one  foot, 
or  if  he  tried  to  walk,  he  was  going  with  one  foot 
up  and  the  other  down ! 

**Look  here!''  he  cried.  **What  am  I  to  do? 
It  is  not  much  use  telling  me  that  someone  else 
has  got  my  other  boot.  I  can't  go  out  like  this! 
I  can't  get  this  one  on!" 

And  everyone  was  trying  to  look  sorry  and  not 
smile,  though  he  did  look  so  comical;  while  the 
hotel  servants  were  scurrying  to  and  fro,  trying 
to  find  the  man  with  the  other  boot. 

That  reminds  us  of  something  Paul  once  wrote 
to  his  friends.  He  said,  ^*  Having  your  feet 
shod.  ..."    Why  shod? 

Looks  count  for  something.  The  gentleman 
felt  he  could  not  go  out  with  only  one  boot  on. 
And  you  will  remember  when  the  poor  Prodigal 
came  home,  one  of  the  first  things  his  father  said 
was,  ^^Put  a  ring  on  his  hand  and  some  shoes  on 
his  feet!"  He  wanted  him  to  look  like  a  gentle- 
man. 

Then  comfort  counts  for  something.  You  have 
never  had  to  walk  along  hard  roads  or  cold  pave- 
ments without  your  shoes.  (What  you  do  on  the 
seashore  at  holiday  time  is  not  the  same  thing.) 
We  saw  two  ragged  little  boys  sitting  in  a  shop 
doorway.  One  of  them,  in  crossing  the  street, 
had  trodden  on  a  piece  of  glass,  and  cut  his  bare 
foot  rather  badly.  But  the  other  was  a  real  chum. 
He  tore  a  bit  of  the  lining  out  of  his  jacket,  and 
bound  up  the  other's  foot  so  that  he  could  get 
home.  But  the  old  gentleman  in  the  hotel  was 
not  going  to  risk  anything  like  that.  He  wanted 
to  be  properly  shod. 


ARE  YOUR  FEET  SHOD?  119 

While  looks  and  comfort  are  important,  fitness 
is  more  important  still.  That  was  why  such  at- 
tention was  paid  to  the  boots  onr  soldiers  had. 
If  they  were  worn  or  uncomfortable,  the  men 
could  not  march  properly,  and  the  Eoman  soldiers 
had  nails  in  their  sandals  so  that  they  could 
march  without  slipping  on  the  great  roads.  Fit- 
ness meant  everything.  And  the  way  the  feet 
were  shod  helped  the  men  to  do  their  best. 

That  applies  to  more  than  the  men.  In  some 
of  our  great  camps  overseas,  we  saw  them  some- 
times shoeing  the  Army  mules.  When  a  mule  did 
not  want  his  shoes  on,  then  the  fun  began.  Ropes 
had  to  be  fastened  to  his  legs ;  he  would  be  pulled 
to  the  ground,  and  then  several  men  would  hold 
on  to  the  ropes,  without  hurting  him,  until  his 
shoes  were  nailed  on.  He  did  not  know  it,  but  we 
do :  he  could  not  be  fit  for  the  work  he  had  to  do 
unless  he  were  properly  shod. 

Have  you  got  your  shoes  on  ?  I  mean  the  kind 
that  Paul  spoke  about.  Are  you  ready  to  do  what 
the  King  commands? 

If  we  are  too  busy  with  our  play  or  too  intent  on 
our  games  when  mother  wants  us  to  run  an  errand 
for  her,  our  feet  are  not  shod.  If  we  are  too  tired 
or  too  cross  to  help  another  by  doing  a  little  kind- 
ness, our  sandals  of  service  are  missing. 

But  if  we  are  always  eager  to  be  helpful  and 
kind,  ready  to  do  anything  in  our  power  to  lighten 
another  ^s  load  or  go  on  an  errand  of  mercy,  al- 
ways willing  and  obliging,  then  those  about  us — 
our  parents,  our  teachers  at  school,  our  master 
when  we  go  out  into  the  world — ^will  say,  ^  ^  There 
is  a  boy,  there  is  a  girl,  whose  feet  are  shod ! ' ' 


XXVIII 
THE  FAIRY  QUEEN 

FAIRIES!  There  aren't  any  such  things/' 
said  Roy  decisively.  And  as  he  was  nearly 
ten  and  had  just  gone  into  the  next  form  at  school, 
his  wisdom  was  beyond  question. 

^  *  But  I  know  there  are, ' '  retorted  little  Ruth. 

^ '  Have  you  ever  seen  one  ? ' '  asked  her  brother. 

^*N-o!  but  .  .  .  but  I  know  there  are  plenty. 
On  moonlight  nights,  they  danoe  right  under  this 
very  tree,  and  Mummy  is  such  a  dear  that  I  guess 
she's  a  fairy  growed  up." 

^^Well,"  said  Roy,  his  hands  deep  in  his 
trousers  pockets,  *^I'd  just  like  to  see  one,  that's 
all!" 

^^ Honour  bright!  Would  you?"  piped  a  tiny 
voice.  And  right  in  front  of  the  children  sat  a 
quaint  dwarf  with  the  most  comical  face  you  have 
ever  seen. 

'  ^  Rather ! ' '  answered  the  boy,  trying  to  look  as 
though  it  would  take  more  than  a  dwarf  to  sur- 
prise him. 

With  that,  the  tiny  fellow  leapt  to  his  feet,  and 
pulling  up  two  or  three  pieces  of  turf  from  the 
lawn,  he  beckoned  the  children  to  follow  him, 
down  a  long,  sloping  track  that  seemed  to  lead 
right  under  the  garden. 

120 


THE  FAIRY  QUEEN  121 

**Don^t  be  afraid/'  said  the  dwarf.  ^^It  isn't 
dark."  And  it  wasn't,  for  the  glow-worms  on 
each  side  made  the  track  quite  bright.  ^^We  are 
going  to  see  the  Fairy  Queen!" 

After  a  time,  they  came  to  a  great  golden  gate, 
and  their  guide  gave  the  bell  such  a  mighty  tug 
that  it  went  jangling  and  tangling  all  through  the 
palace. 

The  porter,  who  knew  the  dwarf  quite  well,  ad- 
mitted them,  and  then  they  were  taken  into  an 
ante-room  to  await  audience  with  the  Queen.  She 
had  gone  out  into  the  world,  explained  the  dwarf, 
to  see  that  her  servants  were  carrying  out  her 
instructions,  and  so  they  might  have  to  wait  for 
some  time  till  she  returned. 

*'What  do  her  servants  do  in  the  big  world?" 
said  the  dwarf,  repeating  Ruth's  question.  ^'Oh, 
Queen  Kindheart — the  Queen  of  the  Fairies,  you 
know — sends  her  courtiers  to  cheer  and  help  peo- 
ple who  are  in  any  kind  of  trouble,  and  though 
they  are  quite  invisible,  these  servants  of  hers  are 
always  busy  obeying  her  commands. ' ' 

Just  then  a  fanfare  of  trumpets  announced 
that  the  Queen  had  come  back,  and  in  a  short 
time,  the  children,  with  their  strange  guide,  were 
ushered  into  the  royal  presence. 

She  was  such  a  dainty  little  figure,  seated  there 
on  her  throne  of  ivory  and  gold,  and  although 
Roy  and  his  sister  felt  a  bit  shy  at  first,  she  soon 
set  them  at  their  ease.  (Ruth  explained  after- 
wards that  she  had  a  smile  just  like  mother's, 
and  so  mother  must  really  be  a  fairy  ^^growed 
up!").  Before  they  quite  knew  how  it  came 
about,  they  had  told  her  all  about  the  brown  and 


122       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

white  rabbits  in  the  garden,  and  the  funny  tricks 
their  terrier  knew. 

'^Now,''  said  the  Queen  at  length,  *' would  you 
like  a  drive  in  my  chariot  before  you  go  backT' 

**Ra — ^yes,  please,  your  majesty,"  said  Roy. 
* '  We  'd  think  it  topping ! ' ' 

The  golden  chariot  with  two  white  horses  was 
brought,  and  away  they  all  went,  the  horses  gal- 
loping up  the  sloping  road  that  led  to  daylight. 
A  wave  of  the  Queen's  sceptre,  and  they  were 
quite  invisible.  ^'And  now  I  can  show  you  what 
we  fairies  do  without  anyone  seeing  us." 

Trudging  along  the  road  in  front  of  them  was 
an  old  man  with  a  big  bundle  of  firewood  on  his 
back.  He  was  very  frail,  and  the  bundle  seemed 
far  too  heavy  for  him.  But  some  boys  were  run- 
ning behind,  calling  out  rude  names,  and  one  was 
throwing  mud  at  the  poor  fellow. 

The  Queen  spoke  to  one  of  the  boys,  and  he 
suddenly  cried  to  the  others,  ' '  I  say !  Let 's  play 
the  game !  We  '11  go  and  help  the  old  man  with 
his  load."    And  they  did. 

There  was  a  little  boy,  crying  as  though  his 
heart  would  break.  The  Queen  descended  from 
the  chariot,  and  whispered  something  in  his  ear ; 
suddenly  the  tiny  fellow  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his 
knuckles,  and  though  that  did  not  improve  his 
looks,  he  started  to  smile  again. 

Everywhere  they  went,  with  a  wave  of  her 
sceptre  or  a  gentle  word,  Queen  Kindheart  made 
cross  faces  look  happy,  and  sad  faces  glad  again. 
And  all  too  quickly,  it  seemed  to  the  children,  they 
were  back  at  the  palace  gates  once  more. 


THE  FAIRY  QUEEN  123 

**Well,  Roy.  You  believe  in  fairies  now,  I 
suppose?'*  asked  the  Queen  with  a  smile. 

Eoy  looked  very  sheepish.  Who  could  have  told 
the  Queen  what  he  had  said  to  Ruthf  He  did  not 
know,  but  he  just  managed  to  stammer,  ' '  Oh,  yes, 
your  majesty!    Quite!'' 

*^Then  before  you  leave,  I  want  to  enroll  you 
both  in  my  service.    Kneel!" 

Ruth  and  Roy  knelt  side  by  side  upon  the  steps 
of  the  throne.  And  as  the  Queen  laid  her  hand 
on  each  curly  head,  she  said,  ' '  Remember,  you  are 
now  in  the  service  of  Queen  Kindheart.  Every 
chance  you  get  of  doing  a  good  turn  for  someone 
in  need,  you  are  showing  your  loyalty  and  love 
to  me  and  to — a  greater  One  who  is  your  King ! ' ' 


XXIX 
MYRA  OF  THE  MAGIC  TOUCH 

MYRA'S  father  was  a  minister.  They  had 
come  from  a  small  country  place  with  sweet 
little  cottages,  to  a  big  factory  town  where  tall 
chimneys  belched  forth  black  smoke,  and  where 
the  hum  of  machinery  filled  the  air  all  day  long. 
The  little  girl  had  never  seen  such  a  place  before. 
The  shops  and  the  busy  streets  were  wonderful. 
But  the  thing  that  impressed  her  most  was  the 
number  of  mites,  barefooted  and  poor,  that  she 
saw  wandering  about  as  though  no  one  cared  for 
them. 

She  felt  so  sorry  for  these  children  that  one 
day  she  had  actually  gone  to  the  cupboard  where 
her  shoes  were,  and  counted  how  many  pairs  she 
had,  to  see  if  there  were  enough  to  go  round.  But 
there  was  not  one  shoe  each! 

So  behind  her  smiling  face,  there  were  often 
thoughts  that  were  too  sad  for  a  child,  and  this 
Monday  afternoon,  she  felt  sadder  than  ever. 
Lessons  were  over,  and  creeping  up  to  the  study, 
she  coiled  herself  in  her  father's  big  armchair, 
thinking  of  what  he  had  told  the  people  the  day 
before  about  the  poor  folk  he  had  been  to  see. 
How  much  they  needed  sympathy  and  help ! 

While  she  was  wondering  what  she  could  do, 

124 


MYRA  OF  THE  MAGIC  TOUCH  125 

and  feeling  how  tiny  she  was,  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  Then  through  the  tears  she  saw  a  mar- 
vellous sight. 

In  the  church,  where  the  pulpit  had  stood,  was 
a  great  shining  throne,  where  an  Angel  sat,  one 
clad  in  a  robe  that  glistened  like  snow  in  the  sun- 
light. Surging  up  to  the  throne,  there  was  a  vast 
throng  of  girls  and  boys.  She  knew  by  the  sunny 
smile  Who  occupied  the  seat  of  honour,  but  it  was 
some  time  before  Myra  could  quite  see  what  was 
happening  in  the  front.  But  as  she  got  nearer, 
she  saw  the  Angel  was  giving  something  to  each 
child  who  knelt  before  him.  Some  received  tiny 
lamps  that  they  were  to  carry  to  the  dark  places 
of  life,  that  the  gloom  might  be  dispelled.  Others 
were  given  a  song  with  which  to  cheer  the  hearts 
of  weary  wayfarers.  What  would  she  get  ?  Myra 
felt  herself  growing  more  excited  every  moment 
she  got  nearer,  and  when  at  last  she  too  reached 
the  steps  of  the  throne,  the  angel  said,  *^What 
shall  I  give  thee,  Myra,  my  child,  for  thy  heart 
is  tender?'' 

^ '  Just  what  it  shall  please  thee  to  give, ' '  she 
replied. 

She  held  out  her  hand,  but  instead  of  putting 
anything  in  it,  he  laid  one  hand  on  hers,  and 
placing  the  other  on  her  brow,  said,  * '  Then  I  give 
thee  the  magic  touch." 

Myra  did  not  understand  a  bit  what  that  meant, 
and  all  the  way  home  she  was  wondering  what  it 
could  be.  She  was  thinking  so  hard  that  she 
scarcely  noticed  the  barefooted  little  chap  in 
front,  until  she  heard  his  sobs. 

*' Whatever  is  the  matter,  little  manT' 


126       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

He  lifted  his  face  to  hers,  and  Myra  saw  that 
the  tears  had  made  two  white  channels  down  his 
grimy  cheeks.  * '  I  Ve  slipped,  and  scraped  my  leg 
on  those  railings,"  he  whimpered,  '^And  oh!  it 
does  hurt!" 

**Let  us  sit  on  these  steps.  Don't  cry!  We'll 
see  what  we  can  do. ' '  And  with  her  handkerchief, 
and  the  ribbon  she  wore  as  a  sash,  Myra  began 
to  render  first-aid.    ^ '  Say  if  I  hurt  you. ' ' 

The  tears  had  stopped,  and  the  boy  said, 
*  *  You  're  not  hurting  a  bit !  Why,  it  feels  better 
already." 

Was  it  the  magic  touch?  I  cannot  say.  But 
as  she  went  along,  the  streets  seemed  full  of  sun- 
shine. Everyone  who  saw  her  bright  smile  felt 
happier.  Sour  looks  vanished,  and  the  care-lines 
were  smoothed  out  from  tired  faces.  One  or  two 
people  who  knew  her,  stopped  to  shake  hands  with 
the  minister's  little  girl.  And  she  said  to  herself, 
*'Why,  I  know  what  it  is — it's  the  magic  touch!" 

Would  you  like  it?  It  can  be  had  for  the  ask- 
ing, for  the  magic  touch  is  Sympathy. 


XXX 

SHAEP  AS  A  NEEDLE 

WA.NTED,    a  sharp  boy,  to  make  himself 
•useful.'*     That  was  an  advertisement  I 
read  in  the  paper,  and  it  made  me  think.     One 
had  often  seen  it  put,  ^^A  smart  boy,'*  but  who 
wants  a  sharp  one? 

There  are  sharp  people  who  do  what  is  not 
quite  right,  and  sharp  people  who  say  what  hurts. 
But  surely  no  one  could  want  a  boy  who  would 
do  either.  Then  it  came  to  me :  why,  they  wanted 
a  boy  as  sharp  as  a  needle ! 

That  is  the  first  thing  about  a  needle.  When 
you  were  first  trying  to  sew,  you  found  how  even 
the  small  point  of  a  needle  could  hurt  if  you  put 
it  in  the  wrong  place.  That  is  the  kind  of  sharp- 
ness that  some  people  have.  They  are  all  point 
and  they  wound  others  as  well  as  themselves. 
But  used  rightly,  the  sharpness  of  the  needle  is 
a  fine  thing.  The  point  is  made  sharp  so  that 
it  can  get  through  things,  and  get  through  them 
without  much  pushing.  That  is  what  we  must 
remember  about  lessons  or  our  work. 

Then  the  needle  has  an  eye.  So  have  some 
little  people,  and  they  use  it  only  to  see  faults 
in  their  playmates  or  to  see  reasons  why  they 
should  not  try  to  do  right.    But  the  needle  uses  its 

127 


128       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

eye  better  than  that.  Do  you  know  what  its  eye  is 
for?  Of  course  you  do.  It  is  to  take  in  something 
that  it  can  carry  along  with  it. 

That  was  the  kind  of  boy  that  was  wanted — 
one  who  would  remember  what  he  was  told,  one 
who  would  take  in  what  he  was  taught  and  carry 
it  along  with  hun.  And  that  is  why  you  have 
lessons  to  learn,  that  you  may  be  useful  in  the 
work  of  the  world. 

Another  thing*  about  the  needle  is  this :  it  must 
be  straight.  There  are  one  or  two  like  the 
surgeon's  needle  or  the  packing-needle  that  are 
meant  to  be  bent,  but  most  needles  must  be  quite 
straight.  You  cannot  do  fine  work  with  a  crooked 
needle,  and  you  cannot  do  much  with  a  person 
who  is  not  straight,  that  is,  one  who  will  not  play 
the  game  and  do  what  he  knows  to  be  right. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  make  a  needle  perfectly 
straight,  but  it  is  one  of  the  first  things  they  do 
when  they  are  making  them.  After  being  heated 
a  number  of  pieces  of  steel  wire  are  rolled  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  a  machine,  and  pressed 
against  one  another.  And  it  is  so  with  us.  It  is 
in  our  work  and  our  play,  while  we  have  most  to 
do  with  one  another,  that  we  learn  to  do  what  is 
fair  and  true,  for  no  one  likes  to  play  with  a  child 
who  will  not  be  straight,  and  noble  boys  and  girls 
know  that  to  be  upright  and  unselfish,  to  do  right 
even  when  it  is  hard,  are  the  qualities  we  admire 
most. 

The  needle  must  be  bright  as  well.  A  rusty  one 
will  stick  in  the  cloth,  and  make  the  work  very 
unpleasant,  and  brightness  in  girls  and  boys 
is  more  than  polish — though  good  manners  and 


SHARP  AS  A  NEEDLE  129 

politeness  are  always  necessary.  This  brightness 
is  getting  through  one  ^s  work,  but  doing  it  cheer- 
fully and  willingly,  so  that  it  makes  work  a  pleas- 
ure. Sulks  or  grumbles  are  like  rust  on  the 
needle. 

That  was  the  kind  of  boy  they  wanted  in  the 
city.  And  that  is  the  kind  everyone  likes,  one  as 
sharp  as  a  needle. 

A  point  to  get  through  things, 
An  eye  to  carry  with  us  what  is  useful, 
Straightness  so  that  we  do  the  right, 
Brightness  that  will  help  us  to  do  our 
work  cheerfully,  smoothly,  gladly. 

These  are  some  things  the  needle  has,  and  like  it, 
we  must  always  be  true  as  steel! 


XXXI 

THE  MISSION  OF  THE  MIGNONETTE 

IN  a  gorgeous  garden  bloomed  a  lovely  rose. 
There  were  other  roses,  but  none  like  this  one, 
for  it  was  exceedingly  vain  and  always  making  the 
other  flowers  unhappy  with  its  foolish  airs. 

No  one  likes  flowers  or  even  children  who  have 
too  good  an  opinion  of  themselves,  and  that  was 
just  what  was  the  matter  with  this  rose.  She 
would  fluff  out  her  petals,  and  when  the  breezes 
blew,  she  would  nod  her  head  in  a  stately  manner 
as  though  she  were  almost  too  great  to  listen  to 
the  messages  they  brought. 

Perhaps  what  made  things  worse  was  this :  the 
old  gardener  seemed  to  pay  very  great  attention 
to  this  rose.  He  would  see  that  she  was  well  sup- 
ported and  that  no  ugly  insects  were  troubling 
her  by  crawling  round.  So  some  of  the  young 
flowers  got  jealous.     Then  they  started  to  sulk. 

^^What  is  the  use  of  growing  at  all?"  com- 
plained little  Polly  Anthus.  ^^He  never  looks  at 
us!'' 

*^I  feel  the  same,"  said  the  Mignonette,  which 
made  the  Dahlia  look  round  in  surprise,  for  she 
was  generally  so  sweet. 

*' Don't  fret,  little  flowers,"  he  said.  ''You 
know,  we  all  have  our  place  to  fill,  and  we  have 

130 


THE  MISSION  OF  THE  MIGNONETTE     131 

to  be  just  ourselves.  The  gardener  thinks  some- 
thing about  us,  and  so  does  master,  or  we  wouldn't 
be  here  at  all!*' 

But  the  flowers  did  fret.  And  this  made  the 
proud  rose  more  pleased  with  herself  than  ever, 
for  she  knew  that  they  were  jealous  of  her. 

* '  Poor  little  things, ' '  she  would  say,  *  *  Did  they 
do  it  to  them,  thenf  And  she  would  toss  her 
head  in  her  haughty  way,  adding,  ^^Why  don't 
you  hurry  up  and  grow?  Then  you  might  be 
noticed. ' ' 

So  you  can  see  that  she  was  rude  as  well  as 
vain. 

One  night,  something  had  evidently  vexed  the 
wind,  for  he  came  into  the  garden  in  a  raging 
temper.  He  stormed  and  he  raved,  and  went 
tearing  up  and  down  just  like  people  who  forget 
themselves  and  fly  into  a  tantrum.  So  the  little 
flowers  were  glad  for  once  that  they  were  so  tiny. 
They  nestled  down  in  their  beds,  hoping  that  the 
wind  would  not  notice  them,  and  it  was  not  until 
morning  that  they  dared  open  their  eyes. 

He  had  gone !  Everything  was  still  except  for 
the  thrush  in  the  orchard  who  was  whistling  a 
merry  tune  to  himself,  so  the  flowers  lifted  their 
heads  and  looked  about. 

Something  else  had  gone! 

They  looked  round  the  garden,  but  the  proud 
rose  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Her  place  was 
empty.  But  on  the  ground  just  where  she  had 
stood  was  a  number  of  red  petals. 

Whether  it  was  she  who  had  vexed  the  wind 
or  not,  we  cannot  tell,  but  she  had  been  blown 


132       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

up !  And  the  tiny  flowers  were  glad  they  had  been 
spared  her  fate. 

There  are  some  advantages  in  being  small.  It 
is  not  always  the  grown-nps  who  are  happiest, 
and  it  is  not  only  big  people  who  can  do  good  in 
the  world.  That  is  what  the  Mignonette  dis- 
covered ! 

When  the  gardener  came  past  where  the  Mi- 
gnonette was  growing,  she  noticed  that  he  looked 
very  troubled.  Of  course,  she  at  once  thought  it 
was  because  his  precious  rose  had  gone,  but  when 
she  saw  him  push  his  spectacles  up  on  his  fore- 
head so  that  he  could  read  a  letter,  and  heard 
him  say,  ^'Poor  little  chap!'*  she  knew  she  was 
wrong.    It  could  not  be  the  rose. 

Suddenly  he  stooped  down,  and  laying  hold  of 
a  clump  of  Mignonette,  he  cut  the  stems  and  be- 
fore she  had  time  to  cry  out,  he  bore  her  off  to 
the  tool-shed.  He  got  a  box,  laid  her  inside  with 
a  few  big  leaves  and  put  on  the  lid. 

Lying  there  in  the  dark,  the  Mignonette  felt 
very  unhappy.  She  was  sorry  she  had  ever 
grumbled  about  the  quiet  home  in  the  garden,  and 
before  long,  she  was  more  sorry  still.  She  was 
taken  off  somewhere,  and  the  box  was  tossed  and 
tumbled  till  now  she  was  on  her  head  and  now 
on  her  side,  and  she  hardly  knew  what  would  hap- 
pen next. 

But  like  most  unpleasant  things,  the  end  of  her 
troubles  came.  She  heard  the  chink  of  scissors, 
the  lid  was  lifted,  and  it  was  light  again. 

She  was  in  such  a  strange  place.  There  was  a 
long  room  with  rows  and  rows  of  beds,  and  a  lady 
with  a  white  apron  and  such  a  sweet  smile  carried 


THE  MISSION  OF  THE  MIGNONETTE     133 

the  flowers  to  a  little  boy  who  was  lying  very  still 
in  one  of  the  cots. 

His  eyes  were  closed,  but  the  nurse  said,  ^^Look, 
here 's  something  for  you. ' ' 

He  must  have  thought  it  was  medicine,  for  he 
pretended  to  be  asleep. 

Then  she  said,  "Smell!''  And  of  course,  that 
sounded  like  medicine  too,  so  he  still  kept  quiet. 

But  when  she  said,  "Here's  a  box  for  you," 
he  looked  up  quickly,  for  every  boy  likes  to  get 
a  parcel  of  some  kind,  and  reading  the  note  that 
said,  "With  love  from  Uncle,"  he  took  the  Mi- 
gnonette and  held  her  so  tightly  in  his  little  hot 
fingers  that  she  could  scarcely  breathe. 

She  felt  faint  and  hung  her  head,  so  the  nurse 
told  the  boy  that  if  he  would  just  let  her  have 
them  for  a  few  minutes,  she  would  put  the  flowers 
in  water,  and  he  should  have  them  quite  close  to 
his  bed  so  that  he  could  smell  their  perfume. 

They  were  put  on  his  locker,  and  as  the  flowers 
saw  the  look  of  pleasure  in  the  sick  boy's  face, 
and  knew  that  he  had  forgotten  his  pain,  it  was 
worth  all  the  tossing  in  the  post  to  be  able  to  give 
such  pleasure. 

"Better  to  die  here,"  said  Mignonette  to  her- 
self, ^ '  than  to  live  selfishly  in  the  dear  old  garden 
and  perhaps  be  blown  to  pieces  like  that  rose." 

She  was  right.  The  rose  had  lived  simply  for 
herself  and  she  was  gone,  but  the  Mignonette  was 
living  for  that  sick  little  fellow  in  the  hospital. 
And  do  you  know,  there  was  not  a  patient  in  the 
whole  of  that  ward  who  was  not  the  happier  for  the 
scent  of  those  wee  flowers. 

When  we  give  our  best  to  cheer  someone  else, 


134       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

we  are  fulfilling  our  mission  as  the  Mignonette 
did.  The  sweetness  of  a  kind  deed  is  carried  far 
beyond  our  own  lives,  and  its  fragrance  lasts  long 
after  the  flowers  are  dead. 


XXXII 

THE  TWO  DOGS 

THEIR  names  were  Pyrame  and  Pierrot.  They 
were  both  French,  and  while  one  was  black 
and  white,  the  other  was  white  and  black.  Gen- 
erally, they  were  good  friends.  It  was  only  when 
Pierrot  wanted  his  brother's  bone  that  they  did 
not  get  on  well  together,  for,  as  you  know,  greedi- 
ness always  means  trouble. 

It  was  a  good  thing  that  this  did  not  often  hap- 
pen, for  they  both  had  to  work  hard,  and  when 
there  is  a  quarrel,  it  makes  one  feel  that  one  can- 
not do  one's  best. 

What?  You  did  not  know  that  dogs  have  to 
work!  In  France  some  of  them  do.  They  are 
harnessed  to  little  carts,  and  they  take  round  the 
milk  or  vegetables,  just  as  their  masters  require. 

When  the  great  war  broke  out,  Andre,  master's 
son,  had  to  go.  He  belonged  to  the  Machine  Gun 
Corps,  and  he  had  to  take  Pierrot,  who  was  to 
draw  one  of  the  ammunition  carts. 

The  two  dogs  had  heard  their  masters  talking, 
though  they  could  not  understand  all  they  said, 
but  just  before  Andre  left,  he  called  Pyrame  aside 
and  said, 

^  ^  Well,  old  boy !  I  have  to  leave  you  for  a  time, 
and  Pierrot  is  going  too.    I  want  you  to  stay  be- 

135 


136       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

hind  and  help  the  old  pere  with  the  milk-round. 
Hie  can't  do  without  you,  so  you  must  be  brave 
and  work  hard  till  I  get  back/' 

Pyrame  looked  up  into  his  master's  face,  but 
he  could  not  say  anything,  for  a  lump  had  come 
in  his  throat  at  the  thought  of  being  left  behind. 
So  he  just  wagged  his  tail  very  slowly  as  much 
as  to  say,  ^ '  I  quite  understand,  but  don 't  you  think 
it  is  rather  hard  on  me  to  stay  behind?" 

Months  passed.  The  work  was  very  tiring  for 
one  dog  when  there  had  been  two  instead  of  one, 
and  many  a  time  Pyrame  wished  that  he  could 
have  gone  off  to  the  army  instead  of  being  left 
at  home.  But  when  he  felt  he  was  getting  sorry 
for  himself,  he  would  recall  what  his  young  mas- 
ter had  said  about  being  brave,  and  he  would  tug 
at  the  little  cart  with  all  his  might,  as  though  he 
loved  pulling  it  better  than  anything  else  in  the 
world — though  he  didn't! 

One  day,  the  dog  knew  that  something  was  go- 
ing on.  The  old  master  was  hobbling  about  the 
house  as  though  he  could  not  keep  still.  He  would 
go  to  the  window  and  look  down  the  road.  Then 
he  would  take  off  his  spectacles  and  rub  them 
very  carefully  as  though  he  could  not  see  through 
them.  Then  he  would  open  the  door  and  have 
another  look. 

Pyrame  was  wondering  if  his  master  were  ill, 
when  he  heard  wheels  crunching  on  the  road,  and 
the  voice  that  he  loved !  So  he  rushed  out.  There 
was  young  master  getting  out  of  a  farmer's  cart. 
He  had  his  arm  in  a  sling.  But  who  do  you  think 
was  with  him?    Why,  Pierrot! 

Pierrot  was  wounded  too.     He  had   one  leg 


THE  TWO  DOGS  137 

bandaged,  and  lie  could  only  limp  into  the  house. 
But  Pyrame  noticed  that  he  kept  his  chest  out, 
just  like  a  soldier's  dog  would  do. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  two  dogs  could  get 
a  quiet  time  together,  but  at  last,  when  the  men 
were  sitting  before  the  fire,  the  wounded  dog 
told  his  story. 

'^You  see,  Pyrame,''  he  began,  giving  a  lick 
first  to  his  wounded  paw,  ^' while  you  have  been 
having  a  good  time  at  home,  we  have  been  doing 
something!" 

That  was  hardly  a  kind  thing  to  say,  and  Py- 
rame felt  it,  for  he  had  been  doing  more  than  his 
share  of  work.  But  then,  Pierrot  did  not  know 
as  you  do  that  one  should  be  careful  not  to  hurt 
people's  feelings  by  saying  thoughtless  things. 

^^  Young  master  and  I  were  sent  up  to  the 
front,  and  one  day  the  enemy  was  firing  on  a 
village  we  were  holding.  They  were  very  anxious 
to  drive  us  out,  but  our  orders  were  to  hold  it  at 
all  costs. 

' '  But  it  was  hard  work,  and  our  officer  saw  that 
we  must  get  help.  How  was  he  going  to  get  a 
message  through?  The  enemy  had  cut  the  wires, 
or,  at  any  rate,  they  were  not  working,  so  master 
said  I  would  go. 

*^I  was  rather  glad,  not  that  I  was  afraid  to 
stay  there,  although  the  noise  was  dreadful.  So 
they  fastened  a  message  to  my  collar,  sent  me 
back  to  the  general  for  more  men,  and  told  me  to 
hurry  them  up  as  fast  as  I  could.  And  I  did.  But 
when  I  got  back,  master  was  shot  in  the  arm,  and 
while  I  was  looking  at  him,  I  was  hit  in  the  leg, 


138       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

so  here  we  are,  and  we  have  leave  for  a  few 
weeks/' 

While  Pierrot  was  finishing  his  story,  there  was 
a  knock  at  the  door  and  both  dogs  were  barking 
their  loudest,  for  it  was  the  post-lady  and  she 
always  got  a  welcome.  And  then  young  master 
came  with  a  letter  in  his  hand,  and  patting  Pierrot 
on  the  head,  he  exclaimed,  ^ '  Splendid,  old  fellow ! 
You  are  to  have  the  decoration  for  bravery !  Good 
boy!'' 

Pierrot  put  out  his  chest  still  more  and  wagged 
his  tail  as  much  as  to  say,  ^^Well,  of  course!" 
And  poor  old  Pyrame  wagged  his  tail  too,  for 
he  was  proud  of  his  brother,  but  he  felt  very,  very 
sad  inside !  If  only  he  could  have  been  with  the 
army  instead  of  tugging  a  milk-cart!  He  might 
have  won  the  medal  that  the  French  army  gives 
to  brave  dogs. 

His  master  must  have  read  his  thoughts,  for  he 
took  the  faithful  dog's  head  in  his  hands  and  said, 
^ '  Good  old  Pyrame !  You  did  not  have  a  chance 
like  Pierrot,  but  I  think  you  are  just  as  brave. 
While  he  was  helping  his  country,  you  were  help- 
ing old  master,  and  I  know  pulling  that  cart  on 
the  hot  streets  is  hard  work!  Doing  your  duty, 
no  matter  what  it  is  or  where  it  is,  shows  the  kind 
of  stuff  you  are!  You  are  a  hero  too!"  And 
Pyrame 's  heart  jumped  and  his  tail  wagged 
harder  than  ever.  So  if  one  dog  was  pleased  with 
himself,  the  other  was  pleased  that  his  master 
loved  him,  and  I  know  which  dog  was  the  braver. 


xxxin 

THE  POPPIES  IN  THE  COEN 

A  PATCH  of  poppies  was  growing  in  a  corn- 
field, and  a  very  pretty  picture  it  made.  But 
unhappily  things  were  not  as  nice  as  they  looked. 
The  poppies  had  a  fit  of  the  sulks,  and  that  spoils 
everything. 

It  happened  this  way.  The  flowers  opened  their 
eyes  one  morning,  just  after  they  first  got  their 
lovely  new  dresses.  These  were  of  rich  red  ma- 
terial, and  they  made  the  poppies  feel  very  proud 
indeed. 

To  their  great  annoyance,  however,  they  found 
a  lot  of  green  corn  growing  round  them,  and  be- 
cause the  corn  was  taller  than  the  poppies,  it 
could  not  help  looking  down  on  them,  though  not 
in  the  way  they  thought.  Many  people  are  like 
that.  They  imagine  things  and  so  make  them- 
selves miserable  and  others  too! 

**I  declare,"  remarked  one  poppy,  shaking  out 
the  folds  of  her  crimson  skirt,  '^what  a  place  to 
live  in!  There ^s  positively  no  room  to  breathe 
with  these  horrid  cornstalks  crowding  round.  I 
wish  they  wouldn't  stare  so!'' 

* '  Yes, ' '  added  her  sister.  ' '  And  how  important 
they  try  to  seem,  lifting  their  heads  so  high  and 
looking  down  on  us  as  though  they  were  far  su- 

139 


140       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

perior.  If  they  were  well-dressed  like  we  are, 
they  might  have  reason  to  be  proud.  I  shall  cer- 
tainly lodge  a  complaint ! ' ' 

Just  then,  the  hedge  who  had  been  listening  to 
the  flowers  thought  he  would  join  in.  ^^Not  so 
fast,  my  pretty  poppies !  If  you  knew  a  little 
more,  you  would  say  less.  Don't  you  think  you 
are  a  bit  hasty  in  speaking  in  that  unkind  way? 
I  am  a  good  deal  older  than  you,  and  having  lived 
here  all  my  life,  I  have  seen  quite  a  lot  of  your 
family  at  different  times.  Yes,  and  a  good  many 
harvests. 

' '  The  corn  you  despise  will  not  always  be  green. 
By  and  by  it  will  turn  to  gold,  and  that  is  what 
the  farmer  is  waiting  for.  When  he  comes  round 
here,  it  is  not  to  admire  you,  beautiful  as  you  look 
in  your  fine  clothes!  He  hardly  gives  you  a 
thought!  He  comes  to  see  the  corn  changing 
from  green  to  gold  under  the  kisses  of  the  warm 
sun. ' ' 

The  flowers  hung  their  heads,  but  the  hedge 
was  only  just  getting  under  way,  and  he  went  on : 

^^When  the  corn  is  ripe,  what  do  you  think 
happens  ?  It  is  carefully  reaped,  carted  off  to  the 
miller,  and  he  grinds  it  up  till  the  whiteness  of 
its  heart  is  seen.  Then  it  is  made  into  bread, 
and  that  makes  the  world  go  round.  Its  clothes 
may  not  be  as  gay  as  yours,  but  what  of  that! 

^^Take  a  lesson  from  the  children.  When  they 
see  anyone  not  very  well-off  or  not  as  well- 
dressed,  they  don't  complain  because  they  have  to 
live  in  the  same  world  with  them.  Not  they! 
Instead,  they  are  glad  that  God  has  given  them 
such  kind  mothers  and  fathers  who  provide  nice 


THE  POPPIES  IN  THE  CORN  141 

cfothes  to  wear  and  let  them  have  a  good  time. 
And  because  of  the  blessings  they  enjoy,  they  are 
always  on  the  look-out  for  someone  to  whom  they 
can  do  a  good  turn. 

*^So  you  see,  my  pretty  poppies,  beauty  is  not 
a  thing  of  clothes.  It  is  something  in  the  heart, 
shining  in  the  face  and  sounding  in  the  voice. 
But  there,  I^m  getting  quite  a  preacher,  and  you 
did  not  know  any  better,  did  you?" 

The  flowers  were  sorry  they  had  been  so  silly, 
and  they  promised  the  old  hedge  that  they  would 
never  despise  anyone  again,  no  matter  how  shabby 
or  plain  their  clothes  might  be,  but  instead,  they 
would  try  to  gladden  some  other  heart  every  day. 
And  so,  they  lived  happily  ever  after. 


XXXIV 

CAMOUFLAGE 

ONE  day  in  France,  I  met  a  soldier  friend 
walking  with  a  paint-bucket  and  a  brush  in 
his  hand,  so  I  asked  him  what  he  was  going  to  do. 

^^You  didn't  know  that  I  was  a  bit  of  an  artist, 
did  you?  I'm  just  off  to  do  a  bit  of  camelflash." 
(That  was  his  way  of  saying  the  big  word  at  the 
head  of  this  page.) 

Of  course,  you  know  what  the  word  means.  You 
may  have  seen  ships  painted  with  strange  streaks 
or  buildings  all  decked  out  with  queer  patches 
of  paint  in  all  kinds  of  shapes,  as  though  some- 
one had  been  trying  to  mend  holes  in  their  clothes 
and  had  done  it  very  badly. 

The  reason  that  these  patches  are  painted  as 
I  have  described  is  so  that,  in  time  of  war,  the 
enemy  airmen  or  others  who  are  on  the  look-out 
with  field-glasses,  may  not  be  able  to  see  things 
just  as  they  are. 

The  big  g-uns  were  screened  with  nets,  covered 
with  leaves  or  pieces  of  green  cloth,  so  that  from 
the  air  they  looked  like  the  land  round  about.  But 
while  you  know  all  this,  do  you  know  who  taught 
us  to  do  these  things!  We  learned  it  from  Nature 
herself. 

In  winter,  the  earth  puts  on  camouflage  till  you 

142 


CAMOUFLAGE  14^ 

might  think  that  the  flowers  and  the  trees  would 
never  be  seen  again,  but  she  is  only  pretending  ta 
be  dead. 

There  are  some  butterflies  so  like  the  brown 
leaves  of  autumn,  and  they  keep  so  still,  that  if 
a  bird  should  happen  to  be  near  them,  they  look 
just  like  leaves  and  nothing  more,  and  the  bird 
never  sees  them. 

Some  fish  rest  on  the  beds  of  streams,  and 
when  they  do  so,  they  can  change  the  colour  of 
their  backs  just  to  the  shade  of  the  river-bed, 
while  other  fish  called  Perch,  that  live  generally 
in  rivers  with  a  lot  of  reeds  and  rushes,  are 
marked  with  dark  stripes,  like  the  reeds. 

The  tiger's  stripes  are  for  a  similar  reason.  He 
lives  in  the  wild  jungle  amid  the  canes  and  tall 
grass,  and  so  those  dark  stripes  on  his  coat  make 
him  so  that  he  can  scarcely  be  seen,  while  the 
Polar  Bear  is  always  white  because  his  home  is 
among  the  icefields  and  the  icebergs.  This  is  how 
Nature  takes  care  of  her  children. 

Some  animals  can  camouflage  themselves  even 
more  wonderfully.  The  Scotch  Hare  is  brown  in 
summer,  but  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground  his 
coat  turns  white.  And  the  Ptarmigan,  a  bird  that 
also  lives  in  Scotland,  has  white  feathers  in  win- 
ter, but  in  the  sununer  and  autumn  it  is  as  brown 
as  the  grouse. 

But  which  is  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the 
animals  in  this?  Surely  the  chameleon,  for  it  can 
change  its  colour  in  the  most  marvellous  way. 
Some  soldiers  in  the  East  found  a  chameleon  one 
day,  and  remembering  what  they  had  heard  at 
school  about  him,  they  thought  they  would  see 


144       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

what  he  could  do.  He  was  on  the  sand,  and  his 
colour  was  quite  yellow,  so  they  laid  him  on  an 
army  blanket  and  he  went  a  dark  brown. '  ^  Good ! ' ' 
they  said.  "Now  get  some  of  those  leaves,  and 
put  them  round  him. ' ' 

That  made  the  chameleon  decide  that  green  was 
his  favourite  colour,  and  it  was  only  when  one 
of  them  wanted  to  put  him  on  a  Tartan  plaid  with 
its  many  colours  that  the  game  stopped.  What 
would  have  happened  then,  I  wonder ! 

Now  all  this  shows  us  something  worth  remem- 
bering. "We  grow  like  the  people  we  admire  most, 
so  we  should  choose  good  companions,  always  sail 
under  our  true  colours,  and  never  be  ashamed  of 
doing  right. 

The  right  use  of  Camouflage  helps  us  to  serve 
our  King  in  this  way  too.  We  can  cover  what 
might  be  a  sulky  face  with  a  smile,  and  instead 
of  speaking  the  word  that  might  sting,  we  can 
keep  it  back  and  speak  a  kind  one  that  will  help. 
Then  the  nasty  feeling  will  vanish,  and  we  shall 
be  happy  again. 


XXXV 

THE  HELPEES 

IT  happened  that  in  my  dreams  I  went  to  the 
place  where  men  and  women,  and  girls  and 
boys,  get  their  life-work.  It  was  a  beautiful  build- 
ing, with  wide  marble  steps,  high  columns,  and 
carved  oak  doors,  and  it  was  called  the  Temple 
of  Life. 

They  took  me  to  the  office  where  a  lot  of  people 
were  waiting  their  turn,  for  this  was  where  the 
tasks  were  given  out.  Some  of  the  people  had 
come  back  for  more  work.  They  were  mothers 
and  fathers  who  had  been  busy  toiling  for  their 
children  for  years,  and  some  were  there  for  the 
first  time.  These  were  the  girls  and  boys,  and  I 
was  very  interested  in  what  they  would  get. 

Who  do  you  think  was  attending  to  them  all? 
It  was  an  old  gentleman  with  a  long  white  beard, 
and  flowing  locks.  No,  not  Santa  Claus,  but  it 
may  have  been  his  brother,  for  they  were  certainly 
very  much  alike. 

He  was  talking  to  a  man  who  had  evidently 
been  there  pretty  often,  and  I  liked  the  kindly 
^mile  with  which  he  said  to  the  man,  '^Yes,  of 
Bourse  you  enjoy  your  work,  the  more  heart  you 
put  into  it!     Everyone  tells  me  that!'' 

''True,"  said  the  man,  ''but.  Father  Time,  I 
Jo  wish  you  wouldn't  hurry  us  along  quite  so 

145 


146       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

fast!''  At  which,  the  old  man  laughed  till  the 
rafters  rang. 

So  this  was  Father  Time!  I  had  never  seen 
him  before,  and  I  had  not  noticed  the  hour-glass 
by  his  side.  But  I  had  always  thought  he  was  a 
surly  fellow,  and  instead,  he  was  one  of  the  jol- 
liest,  kindest-looking  old  gentlemen  I  have  ever 
seen. 

On  the  people  passed,  young  and  old.  And 
Father  Time  was  handing  them  rolls  of  parch- 
ment, with  the  seal  of  the  King  attached.  These 
were  their  orders,  and  as  they  read  them,  they 
knew  just  what  their  Lord  required  them  to  do. 

As  there  was  no  chance  of  a  word  with  the  old 
man  just  then,  I  went  outside,  where  some  of  the 
folk  were  talking  about  their  orders.  One  man 
was  saying,  *'I  hoped  for  something  quite  differ- 
ent, but  I  have  to  go  back  to  the  same  work  I 
have  been  doing  for  years.''  While  a  lady  who 
had  been  busy  tending  the  wounded,  was  now  go- 
ing back  to  her  work  at  home. 

Then  I  saw  two  children,  and  as  I  love  girls 
and  boys,  I  went  up  to  them  to  see  what  they  had 
to  do,  for  they  both  looked  rather  disappointed. 

**What  have  I  got!"  the  boy  said  to  his  sister. 
*^I've  got  the  miserables!  Here,  I  wanted  to  be  a 
sailor  and  go  off  looking  for  a  treasure  island,  and 
Father  Time  has  given  me  a  lot  of  geography  to 
learn,  and  a  whole  lot  of  sums.  And  I  just  hate 
sums!    What  have  you  got!" 

^*0h,  he's  given  me  a  lot  of  needlework  to  do, 
and  a  lot  of  horrid  spelling  to  learn.  I  detest 
sewing,  and  as  for  these  silly  old  words —  And  I 
wanted  to  be  a  hospital  nurse  I    It  isn't  fair!" 


THE  HELPERS  14.T 

**Hear,  hear!"  said  someone.  And  a  most 
untidy  little  fellow  came  pushing  up  to  the  chil- 
dren.   ^  ^  I  agree !    Say,  let 's  be  friends, ' ' 

**But  who  are  you?"  asked  the  boy. 

'^What  the  little  girl  said:  ^Tisn't  Fair— that's 
my  name.  I  don't  hold  with  lessons  and  all  that. 
Seems  to  me  that  we  oughtn  't  to  have  to  do  things 
we  don't  like.  And  that's  just  what  C.  B.  says 
too!" 

*^Who  is  C.  B.?"  questioned  the  girl,  for  up  to 
this  she  had  not  been  able  to  get  in  a  word. 

^' Who's  C.  BJ  Why,  don't  you  know  him? 
He's  my  cousin,  Mr.  Dunn.  Can't  B.  Dunn — 
that's  his  full  name.  Old  Father  Time  doesn't 
care  for  us.  Says  we  will  never  do  any  good  in 
this  world.  But  then,  what's  the  use  of  worrying? 
We  please  ourselves,  and  that's  something.  If 
you'd  like  to  stay  and  live  with  us,  I  think 
you " 

^^ Excuse  me,"  said  another  little  fellow,  rais-* 
ing  his  cap  very  politely,  *'but  I  have  been  sent 
by  Father  Time  to  see  if  I  can  be  of  any  service 
to  you.  Please  do  not  have  anything  to  do  with 
that  boy.  He  is  always  making  mischief,  and  he 
does  more  to  hinder  people  with  their  work  than 
you  would  believe.  But,  I'm  sorry,  I  haven't 
told  you  who  I  am.  My  name  is  Timothy — Tim- 
othy Try,  at  your  service." 

**We  are  very  glad  you  came,"  chimed  in  the 
little  girl.  **We  were  both  feeling  rather  dis- 
couraged, and  in  fact,  I  felt  like  giving  my  work 
back  to  Father  Time  and  telling  him  I  couldn't 
do  it." 

**Ah!"  said  Timothy.    *'That  is  just  how  that 


148       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

fellow  makes  people  feel.  It  is  a  good  thing  you 
did  not  meet  his  cousin — Can't  B.  Dunn/' 

'^But  we  heard  about  him,"  cried  the  boy.  *^I 
should  think  those  two  are  the  worst  discouragers 
there  ever  were ! ' ' 

^'That  is  why  we  are  here.  Dear  me,  I  didn't 
tell  you  about  Percy." 

*^ Percy  who?"  asked  the  children,  both  at  once. 

^^Why,  my  brother-helper,  Percy  Verance." 

*'Say,"  the  boy  broke  in,  *^he  isn't  a  foreigner, 
is  he!    It  sounds  a  queer  name." 

"Foreigner!  Not  he.  He's  loyal  to  the  back- 
bone. We  both  are.  If  you  are  in  any  kind  of 
difficulty,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  clap  your  hands 
three  times,  like  they  do  in  the  Arabian  Nights, 
and  we  will  be  there  to  help — one  at  each  elbow!" 

''Timothy  Try  and  Percy  Verance!"  the  chil- 
dren cried,  and  they  laughed  so  gleefully  that  I 
woke  up. 

Who  could  they  be!  Then  I  remembered  that 
when  good  old  Father  Time  sets  us  a  task,  no 
matter  how  hard  it  is  Try  and  Perseverance  are 
two  helpers  who  have  never  been  known  to  fail. 


XXXVI 
THE  QUAERELSOME  GIANTS 

MAPS  are  useful  in  many  ways,  and  if  you 
look  at  one  of  Ireland,  it  may  help  you  to 
understand  this  story  better.  On  the  east  coast, 
you  will  find  a  cape  marked  Howth  Head.  It  is 
near  to  Dublin.  And  ages  and  ages  ago,  so  an 
Irishman  told  me,  a  giant  lived  on  this  very 
headland. 

He  was  a  monstrous  fellow  (the  giant,  I  mean), 
and  not  as  good-tempered  as  you  are,  for  he  had  a 
silly  way  of  getting  cross  for  scarcely  nothing  at 
all. 

Now  on  Bray  Head,  14  miles  farther  south, 
stood  the  castle  of  another  giant,  and  although 
the  distance  seems  so  great  to  us,  it  was  not  much 
to  these  mighty  men.  The  result  was,  not  only 
could  they  see  one  another  quite  well,  but  one 
could  actually  hear  the  spiteful  things  his  rival 
on  the  other  headland  might  be  saying. 

That  was  rather  a  pity.  We  can  often  avoid  a 
quarrel  when  we  won't  hear  the  unkind  words 
that  other  children  sometimes  use,  and  at  any 
rate,  it  always  takes  two  to  make  a  quarrel. 

Well,  these  two  giants  were  always  snarling 
and  quarrelling.  One  day,  the  Dublin  giant  was 
more  tantalising  than  usual,  and  he  said,  quite 
loudly,  so  that  the  other  could  hear,  that  Bray 

149 


150       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

was  the  right  place  for  a  giant  who  could  do  it 
so  well ! 

At  that,  the  giant  of  Bray  picked  up  a  huge 
piece  of  rock,  bigger  than  your  house,  and  he 
hurled  it  at  his  foe,  14  miles  away.  But  he  was 
not  nearly  as  strong  as  he  thought,  for  instead  of 
hitting  the  other  giant,  the  rock  fell  in  the  sea, 
mid-way  between  the  two  headlands.  And  there 
it  made  an  island,  called  Dalkey  Island,  which 
you  can  also  find  on  your  map. 

The  Dublin  giant  was  greatly  amused  at  his 
rivaPs  temper,  and  he  shouted,  *'You  are  a  funny 
fellow!  When  the  children  hear  about  us,  they 
will  think  we  are  the  silliest  giants  in  history! 
Temper  doesn't  show  strength!  It  only  makes  us 
do  things  we  can 't  undo ! ' ' 

*'What  do  you  meanf  asked  the  other  giant, 
still  a  bit  angry. 

'^Why,  you  Ve  left  that  rock  there  for  people  to 
see  how  we  used  to  behave,  and  perhaps  some 
ship  will  run  on  it  in  the  dark  and  be  wrecked. '^ 

**I  never  thought  of  that,''  replied  Bray.  So 
he  strode  into  the  sea,  meaning  to  carry  the  rock 
back  to  the  land  again.  But  the  water  had  made 
it  so  slippery  that  he  could  not  get  hold  of  it 
properly. 

Now  the  other  giant  had  come  to  see  what  was 
going  on,  and  he  had  a  try.  Then  they  both  tried, 
but  it  was  no  use.  And  there  the  rock  remains 
to  this  day! 

Well,  seeing  that  they  could  not  move  it,  the 
giants  stood  for  a  minute  wondering  what  to  do. 
Then  Dublin  said  to  the  other,  ** Leave  it!  Let  us 
shake  hands  and  be  friends!    That  rock  will  re- 


THE  QUARRELSOME  GIANTS  151 

mind  us  that  we  ought  to  use  our  strength  not 
to  harm  one  another,  but  to  help  someone  from 
this  time  on!'' 

So  the  other  said,  * '  Righto ! ' '    And  the  compact 
was  made. 

Do  good  with  all  your  heart  and  might; 
Do  good,  be  good,  from  mom  till  night, 
Let  voice  be  kind  and  face  be  bright; 
Do  good,  be  good !    That's  all  I 


XXXVII 
THE  PATHFINDER 

THERE  is  a  picture  that  you  may  have  seen. 
It  is  of  a  boy,  who  is  standing  in  a  room,  and 
he  is  somewhat  strangely  dressed.  He  has  a  wide- 
brimraed  hat,  just  like  a  rancher  from  the  Wild 
West,  a  khaki  shirt  and  short  breeches,  while  from 
his  belt  hangs  a  large  knife. 

You  have  guessed  what  he  isf  Eight!  first 
time.    He  is  a  boy-scout. 

He  has  a  map  in  front  of  him,  and  he  has  been 
busy  tracing  out  the  track  for  his  troop,  for  he 
is  the  pathfinder.  That  is  why  the  artist  has 
given  his  picture  that  title. 

But  while  busy  looking  out  the  way  for  others 
to  take,  a  thought  has  occurred  to  him.  He  needs 
a  guide  to  show  him  the  way  through  life  if  he 
is  to  be  a  true  man  and  to  prove  a  help  to  others. 
And  there  by  the  boy's  side,  the  Guide  appears. 

He  is  clad  in  a  long,  white  robe.  He  holds  a 
staff  in  his  hand,  and  the  sandals  show  that  he 
is  ready  for  the  road.  So  he  has  laid  his  hand 
on  the  boy's  shoulder,  and  he  is  saying  in  the 
scout's  ears,  **I  will  show  thee  the  path  of  life! 
.  .  .  I  am  the  way!" 

The  look  on  the  lad's  face  plainly  shows  that 

152 


THE  PATHFINDER  153 

not  only  lias  he  heard,  but  he  has  resolved  to  fol- 
low this  Leader  as  long  as  life  lasts. 

That  boy  is  like  a  brave  man  who  had  to  pass 
through  all  kinds  of  dangerous  places,  and  who 
travelled  to  strange  cities  on  service  for  his  king. 
He  always  had  to  depend  upon  the  Pathfinder, 
and  that  man,  whose  name  was  Paul,  never  found 
Him  to  fail. 

There  was  another  who  went  through  the 
jungles  and  swamps  of  Central  Africa,  who  even 
penetrated  where  no  other  white  man  had  ever 
been,  for  he  was  doing  the  same  kind  of  work  as 
Paul.  And  David  Livingstone  knew  how  the 
Guide  was  always  going  before  him  to  open  up 
his  way. 

So  you  will  do  great  things  in  the  world  and 
for  your  fellow-men.  You  will  bring  a  smile  to 
sad  faces,  and  sunshine  to  many  a  shadowed  soul. 
And  what  is  more,  if  you  follow  the  Pathfinder 
you  will  at  last  reach  the  City  of  the  Great  King. 


XXXVIII 
OUR  DAILY  BREAD 

RONALD  came  down  two  stairs  at  a  time,  and 
as  soon  as  lie  reached  the  table,  he  called 
out,  '* What's  for  brek,  Mummie?  I'm  awfully 
hungry ! ' ' 

Mother  smiled  as  she  said,  **You  mean 
very^  don't  you?"  She  was  always  smiling  ex- 
cept when  she  was  very  tired,  and  even  then,  the 
smile  got  through  a  bit.  ** There's  miracle  for 
breakfast,  for  one  thing!" 

The  boy  looked  puzzled,  but  he  guessed  that  his 
mother  must  have  something  good  when  she  talked 
like  that.    He  asked,  ^^What  is  it?" 

She  held  up  a .    No  1    I  must  not  tell  you 

yet. 

'^But  I  don't  call  that  a  miracle,"  said  Ronald. 
^^Why,  it's  only " 

^^Why  that  ^only'f  Do  you  remember  that 
day  when  people  were  so  hungry;  and  Jesus 
took  a  few  loaves  and  blessed  them;  then  fed  all 
those  people?  That  was  a  miracle.  Don't  you 
think  it  is  a  bigger  miracle  to  feed  all  the  people 
in  the  world!  Yes,  and  especially  when  some  of 
them  are  boys  like  you  with  such  appetites!" 

'  ^  I  never  thought  of  that, ' '  replied  Ronald.  *  *  It 
is  rather  wonderful  when  you  think  of  it. ' ' 

154 


OUR  DAILY  BREAD  156 

'*It  is/'  mother  said,  ^'and  it  is  even  more 
wonderful  when  you  think  of  this : 

"  'Back  of  the  loaf  is  the  snowy  flour, 
Back  of  the  flour,  the  mill; 
Back  of  the  mill  is  the  wheat  and  shower. 
And  the  sun,  and  the  Father's  will.' " 

*^Say!  Did  you  make  that  up,  MummieT' 
^^Oh,  no!''  she  replied,  ^^but  it's  true." 
Ronald  was  now  so  busy  with  his  breakfast  that 
he  could  not  talk  much,  for  his  mouth  was  full, 
and  of  course,  we  never  talk  then.  So  his  mother 
had  it  all  to  herself  for  she  could  see  that  the  boy 
was  interested. 

^'The  grain  comes  from  all  over  the  world — 
Canada,  America,  Australia,  Russia —  And  where 
else,  father?"  But  father  was  busy  behind  his 
newspaper. 

^'Men  we  have  never  seen,  sow  the  seed  after 
having  ploughed  and  prepared  the  ground.  Then 
while  men  rest,  God  takes  a  turn.  The  sun,  the 
showers,  the  soil,  the  dew  are  all  God's  servants, 
and  they  help.  Then  it  is  the  men's  turn  again, 
and  the  reaping  time  comes.  The  railway  men 
lend  a  hand,  and  our  sailors  bring  it  along  the 
great  ocean  ways  to  our  ports. 

' '  The  miller  is  ready  to  do  his  part.  The  grain 
is  taken  up  into  the  mill,  where  it  is  carried  along 
swift-moving  belts.  It  passes  over  powerful  mag- 
nets that  take  out  any  pieces  of  metal  or  nails 
that  may  have  got  among  the  grain.  The  wash- 
ing comes  next,  so  that  all  the  bits  of  soil  and 
gravel  that  made  a  home  for  the  grain  while  it 
was  growing  are  carried  away.    And  then  it  goes 


156       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

through  one  machine  after  another  till  the  rough 
covering  is  taken  off  the  grain,  and  the  pure  white 
flour  is  seen. 

*^  While  we  are  fast  asleep,  the  bakers  are 
busy  making  that  white  flour  into  nice  brown, 
crusty  loaves.  And  when  we  cut  them  up  into 
slices  and  eat  them,  the  cornfield  becomes  brain 
and  muscle  and  life  to  us  all.  What  do  you  think 
of  that?    Isn't  bread  a  miracle T' 

And  Ronald,  busy  though  he  was  with  the  mir- 
acle, replied, ' '  I  should  just  think  it  is !  I  Ve  never 
thought  of  that  before ! ' ' 

There  are  many  of  us  just  like  that  boy.  We 
have  never  thought  of  it,  or  if  we  have  thought 
where  our  bread  comes  from,  we  never  get  past 
the  baker's  shop.  We  must  look  beyond  the  shop, 
past  the  mill,  past  the  fields,  right  up  to  God,  and 
say: 

*^We  thank  Thee  for  our  daily  bread, 
For  seed-time,  harvest,  sun  and  rain; 
For  garners  full  as  Thou  hast  said. 
For  ships  that  brought  it  o'er  the  main. 

"Dear  Lord,  accept  our  praise  to-day, 
And  heavenly  manna  may  we  eat, 
That  boldly  we  may  tread  life's  way; 
Then  cast  our  crowns  before  Thy  feet.^' 


XXXIX 

THE  EED  REBEL 

NO  one  can  measure  the  miscliief  that  this  little 
fellow  did.  He  lived  in  a  cave  with  strong, 
white  gates  at  the  entrance,  and  these  gates  could 
be  shut  in  an  instant.  So  the  rebel  dwelt  secure, 
and  few  ever  got  near  him.  But  they  heard  of  his 
doings  nevertheless. 

He  delighted  in  making  trouble.  People  on 
their  way  to  or  from  the  market,  would  often  be 
stopped  to  hear  strange  tales  about  the  unkind- 
ness  of  some  of  their  friends,  and  so  a  lot  of  need- 
less jealousy  and  unhappiness  was  caused,  for  I 
must  tell  you  what  these  people  did  not  know: 
these  tales  were  not  true. 

At  other  times,  the  rebel  would  go  about  mak- 
ing people  cross  by  saying  all  the  nasty,  spiteful 
things  he  could  think  of.  And  so  more  unpleas- 
antness would  be  caused.  In  fact,  the  rebel  was 
happiest  when  he  was  making  mischief. 

If  the  people  had  been  as  sensible  as  you,  they 
would  not  have  listened  to  such  idle  tales.  They 
would  have  believed  the  best  of  everyone,  and 
gone  on  their  way. 

Now  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  the  rebel  who 
thus  wrought  such  harm  by  disobeying  his  prince 
did  not  always  mean  to  do  it.    If  he  had  stopped 

157 


158       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

to  think,  he  might  not  have  acted  in  that  way 
at  all.  But  there !  He  did  not  think,  and  so  there 
was  endless  trouble. 

The  people  at  last  could  stand  it  no  longer,  so 
they  sent  word  to  the  prince,  and  one  day  a  mes- 
senger arrived  at  the  rebePs  cave.  He  was  just 
in  time  to  hear  for  himself  what  the  rebel  was 
Hke. 

Mr.  Rebel  was  just  inside  his  cave,  calling  out 
rude  names  to  the  passers-by,  and  jeering  and 
snarling  by  turns,  like  some  fierce  watch-dog.  So 
the  messenger  waited,  surprised  and  sad,  till  the 
fit  was  over.  Then  he  approached  the  cave  and 
said,  *^ Don't  you  think  that  you  are  both  foolish 
and  wrong  to  go  on  like  this  1  I  don 't  wonder  that 
people  call  you  the  Red  Rebel !  You  are  a  perfect 
nuisance  to  everyone  who  comes  within  sound  of 
you ! ' ' 

The  rebel  was  losing  his  temper  again  when 
he  suddenly  thought,  by  the  uniform  the  man 
wore,  that  perhaps  he  had  come  from  the  palace, 
so  he  swallowed  the  angry  words  and  said,  '*Why 
do  you  call  me  that  1    I  'm  not  a  rebel ! ' ' 

^^You  may  not  think  you  are,  but  you  are  be- 
cause you  don't  think!  When  you  speak  angrily 
or  unkindly,  you  are  not  only  breaking  the 
prince's  laws  but  you  are  also  breaking  his  heart. 
But  there!  I  have  not  come  to  lecture  you.  I 
am  the  bearer  of  a  message  from  the  prince.  He 
wants  you  to  enter  his  service,  so  that  you  need 
never  be  called  rebel  again." 

*  *  But  what  does  he  want  me  to  do  I "  asked  the 
other,  feeling  more  ashamed  than  he  wanted  the 
messenger  to  see. 


THE  RED  REBEL  159 

*^You  can  serve  the  prince  by  being  Truthful^ 
Obliging,  Nice  to  everyone,  Gentle,  Uncomplain- 
ing, and  Encouraging.  If  you  will  give  me  your 
promise  to  be  that,  then  he  will  confer  a  new  title 
on  you.'^ 

* '  Very  well !    I  ^1  promise.    What  is  the  title  ? '  ^ 

**What  I  have  said.  You  will  find  that  the 
first  letter  of  each  word  spells  T-O-N-G-U-E. 
That  is  the  name  by  which  the  prince  wants  you 
to  be  known.'' 

**Well,  it  certainly  sounds  better  than  rebel!'' 
And  henceforth,  the  man  in  the  red  cave  with  the 
ivory  gates  tried  to  please  his  prince. 

We  have  all  seen  the  cave  and  we  know  who 
lives  in  it.  We  must  see  to  it  that  instead  of  being 
a  rebel,  its  occupant  always  does  the  bidding  of 
the  prince. 


XL 
GLUM  OR  GLAD? 

CARRIO  was  cross !  Because  he  had  a  holiday, 
of  course  it  must  rain,  and  the  picnic  was 
off !  So  he  stood  at  the  window  looking  out,  and 
making  himself  utterly  miserable. 

Mother  suggested  that  he  should  get  his  Mec- 
cano and  build  something,  but  he  didn't  want  to 
do  that.  He  wanted  to  go  out !  And  even  when 
the  rain  pattered  against  the  panes  to  attract  his 
attention,  and  the  drops  said,  ''Watch  us  have  a 
race  down  the  window,''  that  was  no  good.  He 
grumbled  worse  than  ever. 

When  dinner-time  came,  you  can  guess  how  he 
looked.  His  face  was  all  puckered  up  and  the 
corners  of  his  mouth  were  down.  If  little  folk 
knew  what  they  look  like  when  they  are  cross,  they 
would  not  get  peevish  again. 

Carrio  didn't  want  any  dinner.  He  grumbled 
at  the  meat.  He  grumbled  at  the  pudding.  And 
he  was  just  beginning  another  growl  when  mother 
said,  *'Why,  it  has  stopped  raining!  I  believe 
it  is  going  to  clear  up.  You  will  be  able  to  go  out 
this  afternoon,  and  I  would  like  you  to  leave  some 
eggs  at  old  Mrs.  Dawson's,  down  in  the  village. 
She  has  been  so  ill,  and '' 

' '  I  don 't  want  to !  It 's  no  good  going  out  now, " 
broke  in  Carrio. 

160 


GLUM  OR  GLAD?  161 

*^But  whjV^  asked  his  mother.  **You  were 
grumbling  all  morning  because  you  could  not  go 
out,  and  now  you  don 't  want  to !  You  are  a  boy ! 
Never  mind !  I  will  leave  the  eggs  myself.  I  had 
a  little  surprise  for  you;  but  it  doesn't  matter!'* 

Carrio  slouched  off  to  the  breakfast-room,  glum 
as  could  be.  *'I'm  sick  of  everything!''  he  ex- 
claimed. "There!  it's  school  again  to-morrow. 
I  hate  it!"  And  he  went  on  like  this  until  bed- 
time, making  everyone  nearly  as  miserable  as 
himself. 

He  was  just  in  bed  when  a  visitor  arrived,  and 
a  queer  visitor  he  was!  A  strange  little  man 
jumped  on  the  bed,  and  cried,  "Hello,  Glum! 
You've  had  a  grand  time  to-day.  I've  heard  yon. 
Now  you  must  come  with  me!" 

"But  I  don't  want.  ..."  Carrio  began. 

"No  ^buts,'  my  boy!  I'm  going  to  give  yon 
the  chance  of  your  life." 

The  boy,  seeing  he  could  not  help  himself,  got 
up,  and  they  went  on  until  they  came  to  a  hospital. 
They  entered  a  long  room  filled  with  beds.  "Hop 
in  here !"  said  the  man,  stopping  beside  one  of  the 
beds.  "You  were  complaining  to-day  about  go- 
ing out.  Change  places  with  this  little  chap  here ; 
there's  something  the  matter  with  his  back,  and 
he  can  never  go  out  to  run  and  jump  like  you  can. 
I  think  it  is  just  the  thing  for  you  to  change  with 
him!" 

^  ^  I  didn  't  mean  that, '  *  said  Carrio.  *  *  Please  let 
me  go  back,  and  I'll  never  grumble  about  going 
out  again." 

"Well,  next  time  you  feel  like  grumbling,  I 
want  you  to  say,  *  Shall  I  be  glum  or  gladT  " 


162       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

*'Yes,  I'll  promise,"  Carrio  agreed. 

*^ Right!  We'll  go.  No,  not  that  way.  We 
haven 't  done  yet ! ' ' 

They  came  to  a  poor  room  where  a  weak  woman 
was  working  a  sewing-machine,  and  she  was  just 
saying  to  her  two  hungry  children,  *^Be  brave, 
dearies.  As  soon  as  I  finish  this  work  we  shall 
have  some  money,  and  then  I  '11  get  something  for 
you  to  eat.    Won't  that  be  good!" 

*^  Strikes  me  this  is  just  the  place  for  you, 
Carrio.    No  dinners  to  grumble  about  here ! ' ' 

But  the  boy,  almost  in  tears,  said,  *^Let  me  go 
back.    You  know  I've  promised." 

**What!  Glum  or  glad!  Good!  But  we  haven't 
finished  yet!" 

This  time  it  was  a  hot  country,  where  the  people 
were  savage  and  ignorant.  *^Just  the  place  for 
you,  my  boy ! ' '  said  the  guide  again.  *  *  No  schools, 
not  even  a  Sunday  School,  though  you  may  get  a 
few  thrashings  a  day  to  make  up  for  it.  A  fine 
country  for  a  grumbler  like  you!" 

* '  Please  take  me  back.  I  see  now  what  a  little 
beast  I've  been,  and  I'll  never  grumble  at  any- 
thing again." 

*^A11  right!  Then  it's  a  bargain.  If  you  feel 
like  complaining  about  anything  again,  you'll 
ask,  *  Shall  I  be  glum  or  glad?'  Then  see  that 
Glad  gets  it  every  time!" 


XLI 

THE  WIZAED  OF  THE  WOODS 

rpHE  wizard  was  sitting  in  his  hut,  warming  his 
-■■     hands  over  a  tiny  fire  and  looking  very  mys- 
terious, when  three  strangers  approached. 

They  bowed  low,  and  said,  ^^0  wisest  and  most 
wonderful  of  men,  we  would  ask  a  boon.'' 

The  aged  man  rubbed  the  smoke  from  his  eyes 
evidently  well  pleased  at  the  men's  words,  and 
said,  ''And  what  is  the  boon  ye  crave?" 

''I  want  to  be  wealthy,"  said  the  first,  ''with  a 
fine  house  and  a  large  number  of  servants." 

"Indeed!"  came  the  answer.  "Many  a  time 
have  I  heard  that,  but  only  he  is  rich  who  uses  the 
gifts  of  life  aright.  Here  are  three  bags.  Look 
well,  choose  well,  use  well;  so  shalt  thou  be 
great!" 

The  man  looked  at  the  bags  to  which  the  wizard 
pomted.  One  was  small  but  it  was  full  of  rubies. 
The  second  was  larger,  and  full  of  gold  coins. 
While  the  third  was  larger  still,  and  was  heaped 
up  with  grain. 

"I  can  soon  make  up  my  mind,"  said  the  man 
to  himself,  so  turning  to  the  wizard  he  said,  "I 
am  not  greedy,  so  I  will  take  the  smallest  bag— 
the  one  with  the  rubies."  And  having  made  his 
choice,  he  stood  aside. 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  second  man.     <'I 

163 


164       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

want  to  be  rich  too,  but  I  am  willing  to  work  for 
my  wealth.  There  is  nothing  I  would  like  better 
than  to  be  a  prosperous  merchant.  Can  you  help 
mer' 

**Rich  and  prosperous!''  remarked  the  wizard, 
looking  very  wise.  **Well,  thou  shalt  have  the 
same  chance  as  thy  friend.''  So  putting  another 
bag  beside  the  tv/o  he  said,  ' '  Here  are  three  bags 
as  before.  Look  well,  choose  well,  use  well:  that 
is  the  secret  of  prosperity." 

*' Rubies  are  not  much  use  to  me,"  thought  the 
man,  ^^and  grain  is  less.  If  I  take  the  gold,  I  can 
buy  goods  to  trade  with,  and  then  I  can  obtain 
precious  stones  if  I  want  them,  and  as  much 
grain  as  my  family  needs."  So  he  chose  the  bag 
of  gold. 

The  last  man  came  in  the  same  way,  and  three 
bags  were  set  before  him  so  that  he  could  have 
the  same  chance  as  the  others.  ^^I  think  I  will 
take  the  grain,"  he  said.  *^I  want  to  be  useful 
as  well  as  wealthy,  and  people  will  expect  me  to 
do  good  with  thy  gift,  0  most  wise!  Besides,  if 
I  plant  the  grain,  perchance  when  my  harvest  is 
sold,  I  shall  be  able  to  get  both  gold  and  gems." 

The  men  returned  to  their  own  land,  each  very 
well  pleased  with  himself,  and  lest  they  should 
forget  what  the  wise  wizard  had  said,  they  kept 
mumbling,  ^^ Choose  well,  use  well;  so  shalt  thou 
be  great!" 

When  they  got  back,  the  man  with  the  rubies, 
knowing  that  they  were  valuable,  put  such  a  high 
price  on  them  that  no  one  could  afford  to  buy 
them,  and  as  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  rich,  he 
would  not  alter  the  price.    Consequently,  he  had 


THE  WIZARD  OF  THE  WOODS         165 

to  hoard  them  until  some  wealthy  buyer  of  pre- 
cious stones  should  happen  to  come  along.  So  he 
remained  poor. 

The  other,  who  had  chosen  the  gold  pieces,  was 
laughing  to  himself.  *^ Serves  him  right!  Who 
wants  rubies  when  winter  is  coming  on!  I  have 
a  better  plan  than  his.    I  know  what  I  shall  do.'' 

He  bought  a  lot  of  cloth  and  costly  robes,  and 
because  he  too  was  anxious  to  get  rich  quickly, 
he  put  a  high  price  on  all  his  goods.  But  when 
the  people  came  to  look  they  said, ' '  They  are  very 
fine,  but  garments  that  are  not  so  beautiful  will 
keep  out  the  cold  just  as  well.  We  must  wait  till 
times  are  better  before  we  can  afford  clothes  like 
these."  So  the  man  had  to  keep  his  stock  and 
wait. 

Meanwhile,  the  man  with  the  grain  had  sown 
it,  and  when  autumn  came,  the  harvest  was  very 
bountiful.  He  kept  back  a  part  of  it  for  his  own 
use,  and  next  season  he  planted  the  rest  of  the 
seed  again.  The  crops  were  better  still.  So  he 
sold  his  grain  that  the  people  might  have  bread, 
and  they  blessed  him,  for  they  had  known  what  it 
was  to  be  hungry.  They  could  live  without  gems 
and  without  costly  robes,  for  they  still  had  their 
home-spun,  but  bread  they  must  have. 

As  time  went  on,  the  two  who  were  thinking  of 
themselves  and  their  hoped-for  riches  found  them- 
selves getting  poorer  and  poorer,  for  with  their 
idle  dreams  and  their  shops  to  mind,  they  could 
not  settle  to  work.  While  he  who  wanted  to  be  of 
service  to  others  had  gold  pieces  and  rubies  as 
well.  He  had  something  even  more  precious.  He 
had  gained  the  love  of  the  poor  folk  who  ate  the 


166      PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

bread  of  his  harvests,  and  he  had  discovered  the 
joy  of  doing  good.  In  choosing  well,  using  well, 
he  had  learned  wisdom,  and  one  wiser  even  than 
the  wizard  says  that  *' wisdom  is  more  precious 
than  rubies.'' 

The  sure  way  to  happiness  is  to  sow  seeds  of 
kindness,  for  the  harvest  is  always  plentiful.  And 
the  wizard's  word  to  little  folk  is  ^^Look  well, 
choose  well,  use  well;  so  shalt  thou  please  God, 
and  so  shalt  thou  be  great ! ' ' 


XLII 
PLAYING  THE  GAME 

TWO  men  were  toiling  over  some  rough  ground. 
It  was  full  of  lumps  and  hollows  and  the  men 
seemed  rather  hot  and  tired.  Each  had  a  bag  of 
sticks  slung  over  his  shoulders.  These  they  would 
occasionally  lay  down  and  then,  taking  them  up 
again,  proceed  on  their  way. 

Now  this  sounds  as  though  they  were  wood- 
pickers,  gathering  firewood  for  winter,  or  anxious 
to  get  something  to  sell,  but  we  saw  that  really 
they  were  playing  a  game,  and  getting  a  good  deal 
of  fun  out  of  it  too.  They  were  using  the  sticks 
or  clubs  to  strike  two  little  white  balls,  and  while 
other  children  might  need  to  have  it  explained, 
you  are  clever  enough  to  know  that  these  men 
were  playing  Golf. 

We  are  just  as  keen  as  they  were  on  playing 
the  game,  and  so  we  must  first  remind  ourselves 
that  in  the  game  of  life,  there  are  rules  that  must 
be  followed.  What  we  call  rules,  might  be  better 
named  the  will  of  God  for  each  one  of  us.  And 
if  we  would  be  successful,  and  play  the  game  as 
we  ought,  then  we  must  learn  to  obey.  What  is 
that  but  doing  what  we  know  to  be  right?  And 
what  is  doing  right,  but  being  good  from  day  to 
day?    No  one  likes  to  play  with  a  boy  who  cheats, 

167 


168       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

or  with  a  girl  that  does  not  play  fairly,  and  every 
true  soul,  rendering  cheerful  obedience  to  God's 
loving  will,  finds  that  life  is  full  of  joy  and  glad- 
ness. So  the  first  thing  in  the  game  of  life  is 
Goodness, 

Then  we  noticed  that  these  men  were  playing 
from  point  to  point,  according  to  certain  num- 
bers, for  on  a  golf  course,  there  are  18  holes  or 
goals,  to  which  the  ball  must  be  driven.  You  can- 
not go  from  No.  1  to  No.  4,  nor  from  No.  9  to 
No.  6.  You  must  play  right  on  in  the  order  laid 
down,  no  matter  how  difficult  it  may  be.  The 
points  are  connected  by  a  narrow  path,  worn 
smooth  by  the  feet  of  the  good  players,  and  the 
nearer  you  can  keep  to  the  straight  line,  not  only 
the  better  you  play,  but  the  more  easy  it  will  be 
to  win. 

Whenever  people  turn  aside  from  the  straight 
line  of  conduct,  they  find  themselves  '*in  trouble*' 
as  the  golfers  would  say.  That  means,  there  are 
long  grass,  furze  bushes,  or  holes,  into  which  the 
ball  drops,  and  that  means  a  good  deal  of  effort 
to  get  it  back  on  to  the  smooth  places  again.  But 
if  you  keep  to  the  fairway,  then  it  is  a  lot  easier 
to  reach  the  mark  for  which  you  are  playing. 

You  know  how  an  ostrich  runs  when  it  is  being 
chased?  It  zig-zags  from  one  side  to  another, 
and  while  it  runs  very  smftly,  and  covers  a  lot 
of  ground,  yet  by  riding  in  a  straight  line,  the 
hunter  can  readily  outstrip  it.  And  in  playing 
the  game  of  life,  as  well  as  Golf,  the  nearer  you 
can  keep  to  the  line  of  right,  the  better  will  you 
succeed.  So  we  lay  down  our  second  rule: 
Rectitude. 


PLAYING  THE  GAME  169 

While  these  two  men  were  playing,  one  made 
a  tremendous  blow  at  the  ball,  but  while  his  club 
swung  round,  the  ball  remained  just  where  it  was. 
^'Keep  your  eye  on  the  ball!"  cried  his  friend. 
And  that  means  a  good  deal.  If  you  want  to  hit 
the  ball,  you  must  keep  your  eye  fastened  on  it 
as  it  lies  on  the  ground.  And  if  you  want  to  find 
it  after  you  have  struck  it,  you  must  watch  it  as 
it  flies  through  the  air  and  then  falls  into  the 
grass.  Otherwise,  it  means  loss  of  time,  some- 
times loss  of  temper,  and  a  lost  ball  too. 

There  are  other  things  you  must  also  look 
after :  The  way  in  which  you  stand,  the  way  you 
wield  the  club,  the  direction  of  the  flag  that  marks 
the  hole  for  which  you  are  playing;  and  as  you 
remember,  the  Bible  says  that  we  are  to  run  the 
race  or  play  the  game  of  life,  ''Looking  unto 
Jesus,"  for  He  is  our  Example  and  our  Goal.  So 
let  us  add  Faith, 

All  this  means  practice.  Nothing  worth  doing 
can  be  done  without  effort  and  continued  prac- 
tice. A  great  pianist  once  said  that,  although  he 
could  play  well,  if  he  did  not  practise  constantly, 
he  would  lose  his  skill.  "If  I  did  not  play  for  a 
whole  day  I  would  know  it ;  if  I  left  the  piano  alone 
for  two  days,  the  critics  would  know  it;  and  if 
I  left  it  for  three  days,  the  public  who  listen  to 
me  would  know  that  I  had  not  been  keeping  up  my 
work ! ' ' 

What  is  true  of  music,  is  true  of  trying  to  be 
kind,  striving  to  follow  our  Lord's  example,  or 
of  doing  right.  The  game  of  life  will  suffer.  So 
another  rule  for  success  is:  Look  how  you  are 
playing,  and  keep  your  eye  on  the  ball. 


170       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

Then  of  course,  we  must  *'Play  the  game/' 
That  means,  we  must  be  absolutely  fair.  There 
are  some  people  who  put  fun  before  fairness,  and 
think  that  some  of  the  rules  can  be  ignored.  But 
in  the  game  of  Golf,  although  there  are  any  num- 
ber of  sandy  holes,  called  bunkers,  and  obstacles 
that  make  playing  more  difficult,  it  is  the  player 
who  takes  things  as  they  come,  and  never  tries 
to  skip  any  difficulty  who  not  only  gets  most  fun 
out  of  the  game,  but  who  also  increases  his  skill. 

We  all  have  to  face  obstacles  and  difficulties. 
Lessons  are  not  always  easy  to  learn,  temptations 
are  hard  to  overcome,  but  when  we  set  ourselves 
to  vanquish  them,  we  can  come  out  victorious. 
When  the  Pilgrim  in  Bunyan's  famous  story  came 
to  the  Hill  Difficulty,  he  found  that  there  were 
three  paths.  One  skirted  the  hill  on  one  side, 
the  other  went  round  the  other  way,  but  the  third 
ran  right  up  over  the  hill-top.  So  Christian  took 
a  drink  from  the  cool  stream  by  the  foot,  and  thus 
refreshed,  he  started  to  climb.  To  his  surprise, 
he  found  that  the  hill  was  not  nearly  so  steep 
as  it  looked,  for  many  others  had  gone  that  way 
before,  and  made  the  path  quite  easy  to  follow. 
And  before  he  realised  what  he  had  done,  he  stood 
at  the  top,  and  the  obstacle  that  had  seemed  to  be 
more  than  he  could  conquer,  lay  beneath  his  feet. 
He  had  kept  to  the  right  way.  He  had  followed 
the  path  of  the  pilgrim,  and  so  we  must  put  Per- 
severance as  our  last  rule. 

Now  look  what  we  have ;  as  our  guide  for  play- 
ing the  game : 

Goodness— Obeying  the  laws  of  God. 
Rectitude— Keeping  to  the  right  way. 


PLAYING  THE  GAME  171 

Faith — Taking  care  what  we  do  and  how  we  do  it. 
Perseverance — Not  only  doing  our  best,  but  being  our 
best. 

Do  the  right,  do  your  duty,  even  when  it  is 
hard,  and  you  will  find  in  this  the  gladness  of 
Playing  the  Game!  And  even  though  you  may 
not  get  a  medal  for  your  play,  you  will  one  day 
have  the  Saviour's  *^Well  Done!*'  and  that  is 
worth  everything. 


XLIII 
WHY  THE  LEAVES  FALL 

THE  pilgrim  stood  ready  for  the  journey.  He 
had  his  wallet  and  staff.  His  feet  were  well- 
shod.  And  as  he  waited  by  the  wicket-gate,  he 
looked  down  the  trail  rather  impatient  that  his 
guide  should  be  so  long  in  coming.  You  see,  he 
was  young  and  strong,  and  knowing  a  good  deal 
he  felt  that  it  was  almost  a  waste  of  time  to  wait 
as  his  father  had  bidden  him. 

Presently,  he  saw  a  man  approaching.  He  was 
clad  in  a  bright  green  suit,  and  as  he  got  near 
he  called  out  to  the  youth,  *^ Waiting  for  meV^ 

*  *  If  you  are  the  guide,  I  am, '  ^  replied  the  youth. 
*^I  thought  you  were  never  coming!" 

At  that,  the  other  laughed  pleasantly.  ^^ That's 
quite  all  right!  I'm  generally  a  bit  late.  They 
call  me  Spring.'' 

*'And  where  are  we  going!"  asked  the  youth. 

*'A  great  way,  and  a  straight  way,  but  the  end 
is  the  palace  of  the  king !  I  can  go  with  you  only* 
part  of  the  way,  however,  and  then  I  must  hand 
you  over  to  one  of  my  brothers." 

They  set  off,  and  as  they  went,  it  seemed  as 
though  the  world  was  brighter  than  it  had  ever 
been.  The  lambs  were  frolicking  in  the  meadows. 
The  trees  put  on  their  best  clothes  and  waved 

172 


WHY  THE  LEAVES  FALL  173 

their  branches  gaily  as  the  pair  passed,  and  the 
tall  reeds  by  the  river  gracefully  bowed  their 
heads  as  though  in  homage. 

^^They  all  seem  to  know  you/^  the  pilgrim  re- 
marked. 

"Of  course  they  do.  I  forgot  to  mention  the 
fact,  but  I  happen  to  be  their  prince. ' ' 

So  they  journeyed  on  for  a  time.  Then  the 
prince  suddenly  stopped.  "I  must  leave  you 
here,''  he  said.  "This  is  as  far  as  my  kingdom 
goes,  and  I  must  let  my  brother  take  you  across 
the  frontier.''  And  even  as  he  spoke,  another 
prince  approached,  coming  out  of  the  wood. 

He  was  more  handsome  than  the  first,  for  he 
had  golden  curls  that  danced  in  the  light,  and  his 
robes  were  a  soft,  shimmering  green. 

"Let  me  introduce  you,"  said  the  first  prince. 
"This  is  the  pilgrim  youth  who  journeys  far." 
And  turning  to  the  other  he  added,  ' '  And  this  is 
my  brother,  the  Prince  of  Summerland. ' ' 

The  youth  bade  his  guide  farewell,  and  started 
on  the  second  stage  of  his  travels. 

"Where  are  we  going?"  he  asked  of  his  new 
friend. 

And  the  prince  said,  just  as  the  first  had  done, 
"A  great  way,  and  a  straight  way,  but  the  end 
is  the  palace  of  the  king. ' ' 

They  toiled  on,  and  now  the  sun  was  very  hot 
so  that  the  pilgrim  found  that  even  the  small 
bundle  he  carried  was  getting  heavier  and 
heavier.  The  sun's  rays  smote  his  head  and 
scorched  his  back,  till  he  was  glad  to  lean  against 
a  rock  and  rest  awhile. 

The  prince  spoke  to  the  leaves,  and  spreading 


174       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

themselves  out  as  mucli  as  they  could,  they  af- 
forded more  shelter  for  the  travellers  so  that  they 
could  take  their  way  again.  But  the  path,  though 
it  lay  through  the  woods,  was  now  getting  steeper 
and  steeper,  stonier  and  stonier.  So  the  pilgrim 
said  to  his  guide,  ^  *  It  is  verily  a  great  way,  and  a 
straight  way.  .  .  .'' 

^^Yes,'^  added  the  other  quickly,  **but  the  end 
is  the  palace  of  the  king!'* 

*'But  I  am  getting  weary,''  said  the  youth.  **I 
fear  that  I  must  be  getting  old !  And  look  at  my 
sandals ! ' ' 

He  pointed  to  the  stout  sandals  with  which  he 
had  commenced  the  journey.  They  were  worn 
and  cut  with  the  sharp  stones,  while  one  foot  was 
badly  scraped  above  the  ankle. 

*^ Cheer  up!"  the  prince  said.  '^We  shall  soon 
meet  my  brother  who  is  going  with  you  for  the 
next  part  of  the  way.  Perhaps  he  can  suggest 
something  about  your  sandals.  He  is  older  than 
I,  and  he  is  as  wise  as  he  is  good,  and  that  is 
saying  a  lot ! " 

^*Will  he  be  here  soon?"  The  pilgrim  seemed 
better  at  asking  questions  than  at  travelling. 

^*Why,  here  he  comes!"  was  the  answer. 

There  stood  a  fine-looking  man  clad  in  a  mantle 
of  golden  brown,  and  his  face  was  as  merry  as 
the  sun.  **Well,  you  have  come  then!"  he  called 
out.  **I  have  been  waiting  for  you.  And  is  this 
the  traveller?  But  I  understood  he  was  quite 
young!" 

^^I  was  when  I  started,"  replied  the  youth,  '*but 
your  brothers  spake  truly  that  it  is  a  great  way. 
Just  look  at  my  sandals!" 


WHY  THE  LEAVES  FALL  175 

**0]i,  that  is  all  right!  The  way  is  ever  so 
much  better  farther  along,  and  we  must  see  what 
we  can  do." 

Away  they  went,  but  the  traveller  looked  for 
the  other  prince  only  to  find  that  he  had  slipped 
away. 

^  ^  Where  is  my  brother  1  ^ '  echoed  the  newcomer. 
^  *  Oh,  Summer  is  always  like  that.  You  never  know 
when  you  have  him.  He's  quite  a  good  fellow, 
but  he  slips  off  before  you  know.'' 

^^I'm  afraid  I  cannot  go  any  farther,"  the  pil- 
grim remarked  after  a  time.  ^^I  was  hot  before, 
but  my  teeth  are  beginning  to  chatter  now  with 
the  cold  wind.  I'm  really  so  co-co-cold!  And  my 
feet  are  sore!" 

Be  was  quite  right.  They  had  been  mounting 
all  the  time,  till  now  they  were  on  the  high  slopes 
of  a  hill,  where  the  winds  cut  through  one  like  a 
knife. 

The  young  man  looked  so  sorry  for  himself  that 
the  heart  of  the  prince  was  moved,  and  he  said, 
'^Wait  a  minute!  I  think  I  can  do  something!" 
So  he  spoke  to  the  trees,  and  they  cast  their  golden 
leaves  till  the  stony  track  was  covered  with  a 
soft,  thick  carpet.  And  what  is  more,  through  the 
bare  branches,  the  sun  now  shone  quite  warmly, 
so  that  the  cold  winds  lost  their  sting. 

"Now  we  can  get  along,"  the  prince  said. 

"I  can  manage  this  fine,"  the  pilgrim  cried  with 
delight.  '  *  The  path  is  quite  soft  now.  Was  that 
your  own  idea?" 

"Oh,  quite,"  he  replied.  "I  have  often  been 
along  here  with  travellers,  and  by  the  time  they 
get  this  far  after  being  with  my  brother,  Summer, 


176       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

they  generally  feel  like  you  did — as  though  they 
could  not  go  another  step.  And  so  the  Good 
Father  sends  me  to  cheer  and  help  them  in  any 
way  I  can.  I  suppose  that  you  have  found  this 
out  by  now,  that  for  every  stage  of  the  journey 
of  life,  there  is  some  special  help  .and  blessing. 
And  when  the  way  is  rough  and  the  wind  blows 
cold.  Autumn  always  carpets  the  path  with  leaves 
to  make  it  softer  for  weary  feet,  and  helps  the  sun 
to  brighten  the  way.  .  .  .  Look  there!'' 

The  traveller  did  as  the  prince  bade  him,  and 
lo!  the  road  that  stretched  out  before  him  was 
turned  to  gold  as  the  sun  touched  the  fallen  leaves. 

'  ^  At  the  end  of  this  track,  just  by  that  ivy-clad 
tree,  my  brother — there  are  four  of  us  altogether 
■ — ^will  take  you  the  rest  of  the  way.  He  will  be 
here  soon,  and  you  will  easily  know  him,  for 
I  cannot  wait.  He  will  be  dressed  in  white.  His 
name  is  Prince  Winter.  But  though  it  is  a  great 
way,  and  a  straight  way,  the  end  is  the  palace  of 
the  king!    Now,  I  think  I  must  go.    Good-bye.'' 

The  pilgrini  trudged  on,  thinking  how  the  good 
hand  of  God  had  blessed  him  every  step  of  the 
way.  And  that  is  why,  from  that  time  ever  since, 
Autumn  carpets  the  way  with  its  golden  leaves, 
and  the  sun  makes  the  track  shine  that  the  heart 
of  the  traveller  may  be  glad. 

^^It's  a  great  way,  and  a  straight  way,  but  the 
end  is  the  palace  of  the  king ! ' ' 


XLIV 

CHRYSANTHEMUMS 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  ages  and  ages  ago,  the 
sprites  had  finished  their  work  and  they  re- 
turned to  Wonderland.  They  had  been  busy  from 
the  beginning  of  Spring,  tending  the  flowers  that 
gladdened  the  earth.  Now  that  winter  was  at 
hand,  they  felt  they  deserved  a  rest.  One  of 
the  sprites,  however,  was  very  sad.  She  loved  the 
flowers,  and  she  knew  how  dark  and  bare  the 
earth  would  iook  without  them.  She  loved  the  peo- 
ple too,  and  felt  that  they  would  miss  the  blooms 
she  had  secretly  tended.  Yet,  was  it  any  use  being 
sorry?    What  could  she  do? 

It  is  very  little  use  just  saying  we  are  sorry  for 
people  unless  we  try  to  do  something  to  help 
them.    So  the  sprite  formed  a  little  plan. 

During  the  summer  days,  she  had  become 
acquainted  with  a  very  old  man,  who  loved  every 
flower  in  his  garden.  He  would  totter  out  with 
the  aid  of  his  stick,  and  pointing  to  the  beds,  he 
would  say  to  himself,  **They  seem  to  remind  us 
about  God,  these  flowers.  I  dread  the  days  when 
they  are  all  over.'' 

It  was  really  this  old  man  of  whom  the  fairy 
was  thinking  most.  **He  may  think  that  God  has 
forgotten  him,"  she  said.  ^*I  must  do  some- 
thing T' 

177 


178       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

You  know  that  in  far-off  Wonderland,  glorious 
fragrant  flowers  bloom  all  the  year  round.  There 
is  neither  autumn  nor  winter  there.  So  one  night, 
the  sprite  took  a  number  of  plants  and  slipping 
swiftly  down  a  moonbeam,  she  came  to  earth. 
Then  she  sped  to  the  old  man 's  garden,  and  there 
in  secret,  she  planted  the  new  kind  of  flower  in 
the  beds. 

The  beds  were  damp!  No  wonder  the  flowers 
shivered.  The  wind  was  blowing  too,  and  it  ruffled 
all  their  petals  till  they  looked  as  shaggy  as  a  boy 
who  has  forgotten  to  use  the  comb.  But  when  at 
last  the  sun  got  up  and  about,  he  smiled  on  their 
pale,  frightened  faces,  and  the  flowers  turned  to 
a  golden  bronze. 

When  grandfather  came  down  to  breakfast,  he 
went  to  his  cottage  door  to  look  at  the  weather  as 
he  usually  did,  but  he  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes 
as  he  caught  sight  of  the  strange  blooms  in  his 
garden. 

**Well,  I  never!  Flowers  again!  Why,  they 
are  not  only  the  colour  of  gold,  but  just  as  pre- 
cious ! ' ' 

The  old  gentleman  was  almost  beside  himself 
with  joy.  He  did  not  want  any  breakfast.  And 
when  a  neighbour  passed  on  his  way  to  work,  he 
called  out  to  him  to  come  and  look ! 

'  ^  Hello ! ' '  said  the  man.  ^ '  I  thought  the  flowers 
were  over.  What  do  you  call  these?  IVe  never 
seen  anything  like  them  before.'' 

^*I  don't  know  their  name,  but  I'll  tell  you  what 
I've  christened  them — the  golden  flower!  Have 
some  ? ' '  And  as  he  cut  a  few  for  his  friend,  the 
old  man  went  on,  *^I  should  think  the  fairies  must 


CHRYSANTHEMUMS  179 

have  brought  them  in  the  night!  Isn't  God  good 
to  us!'^ 

Strangely  enough,  that  is  just  what  the  neigh- 
bour was  thinking,  and  later  in  the  day,  when  he 
saw  the  Chrysanthemums  on  his  desk,  he  could 
not  help  saying,  ''Golden  flowers!  You  make  me 
think  of  God!'' 

This  must  have  been  the  way  those  flowers  got 
their  name,  for  there  are  two  Greek  words — one 
is  chrusos,  which  means,  golden;  and  the  other 
is  anthos,  a  flower.  From  these  two  words  we  get 
the  name.  Chrysanthemum,  the  golden  flowers 
that  brighten  the  wintry  world. 

The  -flowers  of  the  Spirit  are  love,  joy,  peace, 
long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meek- 
ness, self-control.  Any  in  the  garden  of  your 
heart? 


XLV 
THE   GOOD   SHEPHEED 

AWAY  in  the  highlands  of  Scotland,  lived  old 
Tammas  the  shepherd.  He  was  quite  a 
prosperous  farmer,  though  you  would  never  have 
guessed  it  from  his  tiny  cottage  nor  from  the 
rough  homespun  he  wore.  Having  quite  a  large 
number  of  sheep  and  not  being  as  young  as  he 
used  to  be,  he  had  a  shepherd  to  help  him  to  look 
after  them,  but  this  was  one  of  those  unpleasant 
men  who  make  a  trouble  of  everything,  and  the 
master  and  he  often  had  words  about  it. 

Well,  the  man  came  to  the  cottage  one  night 
after  driving  the  sheep  back  to  the  fold.  The 
flocks  are  usually  able  to  take  care  of  themselves 
and  except  at  shearing-time  or  when  the  winter 
snows  come,  they  wander  about  at  their  own  sweet 
will.  But  there  was  a  storm  brewing,  and  the 
sheep  had  been  brought  down — all  except  one. 
It  was  missing.  The  man  could  not  tell  Tammas 
where  it  was  or  which  it  was :  he  rather  thought 
it  was  the  sickly  one  with  the  black  face. 

Old  Tam  was  like  the  Eastern  shepherds  in 
this :  he  loved  his  sheep,  not  simply  because  they 
were  worth  a  lot  of  money  to  him,  but  because 
they  were  his  own.  So  he  told  his  man  that  he 
must  go  off  and  look  for  it. 

The  man  went  just  as  some  children  go  when 
180 


THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD  181 

they  have  something  to  do  which  they  dislike.  He 
scowled  and  he  grumbled  (not  that  you  are  ever 
like  that!),  then  he  trudged  up  the  hillside  again 
in  search  of  the  lost. 

He  was  soon  back.  No!  he  had  not  found  the 
sheep.  The  fact  was,  his  supper  was  ready,  and 
he  knew  that  even  though  he  were  to  spend  an 
hour  looking  for  the  sheep,  he  would  not  be  paid 
anything  more  at  the  end  of  the  week,  and  he 
thought  more  of  that  than  anything  else. 

^^It's  nae  use.  The  clouds  are  coming  up,  and 
it  looks  like  a  bad  night,"  he  said,  and  leaving 
Tammas  as  angry  as  could  be,  he  went  home. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  it:  the  old  shepherd 
was  put  out.  He  did  not  like  to  think  of  a  sick 
sheep  on  the  hillside  all  night  if,  as  it  looked, 
there  was  going  to  be  a  snowstorm. 

**If  Jock  were  only  here.  .  .  .  He 'd  have  stayed 
out  half  the  night  before  he'd  have  given  up." 

But  Jock  was  not  there. 

That  made  Tammas  sadder  still,  for  Jock  was 
his  only  son.  He  had  been  a  foolish  lad.  He  had 
done  something  very  wrong,  and  running  away 
from  home,  nothing  had  been  heard  of  him  for 
months. 

The  old  man  went  in  and  sat  by  the  fire,  think- 
ing all  the  time  about  the  sheep,  yet  telling  him- 
self that  perhaps  it  would  be  all  right.  Should 
he  take  his  dog  and  range  the  hills  till  he  found 
it? 

But  his  rheumatism  was  bad,  and  ...  As  he 
looked  up,  he  saw  the  snow  was  beginning  to  fall 
thickly.  Great  flakes  were  swirling  against  the 
windows  while  the  wind  was  howling  like  some 


182       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

horrid  witcli.    It  was  going  to  be  an  awful  night  I 

There  was  nothing  to  do  now.  Even  if  his  wife 
were  sure,  as  she  said  she  was,  that  the  sheep 
would  get  cover  somewhere,  there  was  the  chance 
Tam  might  slip  over  a  precipice  in  the  storm 
should  he  venture  out. 

Before  he  went  to  bed  that  night,  Tammas  took 
down  the  big  old  Bible  as  he  always  did,  and  by  a 
strange  chance,  it  opened  just  at  his  favourite 
chapter.  You  know  the  one;  it  is  where  it  tells 
about  the  Good  Shepherd  who  went  forth  seeking 
the  lost  sheep.  So  it  was  little  wonder  that  when 
the  old  man  lay  down,  he  could  not  sleep  thinking 
about  what  the  other  Shepherd  had  done  and  he 
had  not ! 

It  is  always  best  to  do  what  we  think  right 
straight  away.  Tammas  felt  that,  and  at  last  he 
could  lie  there  no  longer.  Getting  dressed,  he 
crept  downstairs,  and  calling  his  dog,  they  set  out. 

The  storm  seemed  to  have  abated  a  little,  though 
the  snow  pelted  his  face  and  almost  blinded  him, 
while  the  wind  seemed  bent  on  pushing  him  back. 
As  he  battled  on,  he  could  not  help  wondering 
what  his  neighbours  would  think  if  they  knew 
that  he  had  left  his  snug  bed  just  for  the  sake  of 
a  poor  sickly  sheep.  *' They'd  say  I  was  clean 
daft,'^  he  muttered  to  himself,  for  it  is  quite  cer- 
tain that,  unless  they  had  been  reading  the  same 
story,  they  could  never  understand  how  he  felt. 

The  dog  was  scouring  the  hill  a  little  way  ahead 
as  though  he  knew  exactly  what  they  had  left  the 
warm  house  for,  and  the  shepherd  was  calling  to 
him  from  time  to  time  so  that  they  should  not 
lose  one  another  in  the  storm. 


THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD  183 

''What  was  that?''  The  old  man  listened  for 
a  moment,  holding  his  plaid  tightly  about  him. 
'  *  No !  it 's  only  the  wind.    Must  be  mistaken. ' ' 

Tammas  shouted  again. 

Yes !  There  it  was.  There  was  no  mistaking 
that.  Someone  up  there  was  answering,  and 
calling  for  help ! 

The  old  man  needed  no  urging.  The  snow  had 
ceased  now,  and  a  glint  of  the  moon  showing 
through  the  scurrying  clouds  enabled  him  to 
strike  where  he  thought  the  track  ought  to  be. 

^  Soon  he  came  to  a  hollow  in  the  shoulder  of  the 
hill,  and  there  was  a  dark  something  huddled 
against  the  rock. 

''Hi,  there!    Who  is  it?'' 

The  glad  bleat  of  a  sheep  answered  him,  and 
then  a  man's  voice  said,  ''Father!" 

' '  Why,  it 's  Jock !  Jock,  ma  ain  laddie,  what  are 
ye  doing  here  ?    Sakes  but  the  lad 's  wet  through ! ' ' 

' '  I  was  coming  home,  father.  Will  you  forgive  ? 
I  had  to  take  the  track  over  the  hills,  and  just 
as  the  storm  broke,  I  slipped,  and  my  ankle's 
sprained.  I  managed  to  crawl  to  the  shelter  of 
this  rock,  and  I  was  hoping  that  somebody  might 
come  along  in  the  morning.  Here's  one  of  our 
sheep.  She  knew  the  call,  and  she's  helped  to 
keep  me  from  freezing.    Was  she  straying?" 

Day  was  nearly  breaking  when  the  three  at 
last  reached  the  cottage,  and  a  strange  picture 
they  made.  There  was  the  shepherd,  with  a 
bedraggled  youth  leaning  on  his  arm  as  he  hobbled 
painfully  along,  while  the  sheep  followed  slowly, 
stopping  now  and  then  to  look  for  a  tuft  of  grass 


184       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

yet  always  keeping  near.  But  there  was  no  one 
to  see,  only  the  angels  and  God. 

The  dog  had  run  back  to  the  cottage.  He  had 
barked  so  loudly  and  So  long  that  the  old  wife 
had  come  down  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and 
when  the  little  party  got  to  the  door,  there  was 
such  a  welcome ! 

The  boy  was  back  again.  And  as  they  sat  be- 
fore the  fire,  the  old  father  was  saying,  * '  How  did 
I  come  to  look  for  you,  ma  lad?  But  I  didn't. 
It  was  for  the  sheep.  ...  I  was  reading  the 
nicht  aboot  the  Guid  Shepherd — ^you  ken  fine  what 
I  mean.  And  there  was  this  one  that  Eob  had  left 
up  there,  so  I  had  to  go.  And  I  found  you !  But 
I'd  rather  have  found  you  than  a  hundred!'' 


XLVI 
THE  POET  AND  THE  POTTER 

ASTEANGE  old  poet  of  Persia,  when  out 
for  a  walk  one  evening,  called  at  the  potter's 
workshop.  The  potter  had  just  gone  ont,  and  so 
the  poet  decided  to  wait  there  till  he  returned. 
The  place  was  deserted,  and  the  poet  was  sur- 
prised to  hear  voices.  He  looked,  and  there,  sure 
enough,  he  discovered  who  it  was. 

Along  the  shelves  round  the  shop,  stood  a  num- 
ber of  half -finished  vessels,  of  all  shapes  and  sizes, 
and  they  were  chattering  away  to  one  another  in 
subdued  tones: 

^^I  think  it  is  monstrous  that  I  should  be  made 
like  this,''  said  one.  ^'A  common  water-jar! 
Why,  at  least  I  should  have  been  something  orna- 
mental. ' ' 

**And  you  would  have  been  an  ornament  to  any 
house,"  chimed  in  another,  ^^for  we  are  both  of 
the  same  glay.  True,  I  am  only  a  vase  and  that 
does  not  quite  jar  one's  nerves  as  you  feel  it, 
but  why  didn't  he  do  something  worth  while!" 
He  thought  this  rather  a  clever  speech,  but  no  one 
noticed  the  point. 

Several  others  joined  in,  lamenting  that  they 
were  not  more  slender  and  graceful,  or  that  they 
were  so  plain,  when  one  huge  vessel,  evidently 
very  angry,  exclaimed: 

185 


186       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

**Wlio  is  the  potter,  pray,  and  who  the  potT' 

Now  the  poet  was  beginning  to  feel  rather  out 
of  place,  but  not  knowing  whether  he  was  ex- 
pected to  answer  the  question  or  not,  he  very 
wisely  resolved  not  to  say  anything,  which  made 
the  vessels  decide  he  must  be  an  extremely  clever 
fellow.  But  the  question  set  him  thinking.  He 
too,  was  like  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter,  and 
many  a  time  he  had  wondered  why  he  was  being 
so  shaped  and  what  the  purpose  of  it  all  could  be. 

We  are  the  same.  Each  of  us  is  as  clay  in  the 
hand  of  the  potter,  and  if  you  were  to  watch  a 
potter  at  work,  you  would  see  that  he  has  a  great 
many  things  to  say  to  us.  That  cup  and  saucer 
you  used  at  breakfast,  the  plates  on  the  table,, 
have  all  come  through  the  hands  of  the  potter,  and 
they  were  shaped  by  his  touch.  At  first,  there 
was  only  a  ball  of  wet  clay,  spongy  and  soft  like 
dough.  He  would  put  this  on  a  circular  table, 
driven  by  belting  and  revolving  very  rapidly,  and 
soon,  instead  of  the  shapeless  mass,  the  clay  would 
rise  up  as  though  it  were  some  magic  tree,  sprout- 
ing in  the  sun.  If  it  were  the  cup,  you  would  see 
him  place  his  hands  in  the  centre  and  hollow  it 
out ;  then  in  a  very  short  tune,  there  was  the  cup, 
in  its  first  stage.  It  had  no  handle,  but  it  was 
passed  over  to  another  man,  who  took  a  tiny  piece 
of  clay,  rolled  it  out  on  his  board  just  like  you 
might  do  with  Plasticine,  and  having  made  a 
kind  of  worm  with  it,  he  cut  off  a  short  piece  and 
stuck  it  on  the  side,  just  where  the  handle  is  seen. 

Then  the  cup  was  put  with  a  lot  of  other  cups, 
all  the  same  size  and  shape  to  dry,  ready  for  the 
next  stage,  which  is  baking.    They  are  then  put 


THE  POET  AND  THE  POTTER         187 

into  a  huge  oven  like  a  lot  of  pies,  and  for  forty 
hours  they  have  quite  a  warm  time  of  it.  Then 
they  are  left  to  cool  for  two  days,  and  the  next 
step  is  ready  for  them.  This  is  the  glazing.  If 
they  were  not  finished  with  glaze,  they  would  still 
be  porous,  and  the  tea  would  ooze  out,  so  they  are 
dipped  into  pans  of  liquid  glaze,  and  then  they  are 
baked  again. 

But  cups  are  not  very  pretty  unless  there  is 
some  design  on  them — flowers  or  lines — so  they 
go  then  to  be  painted,  either  by  hand  or  to  have 
transfers  put  on  them.  Perhaps  there  is  also  to 
be  some  gold,  so  this  too  must  be  added.  And  then 
they  go  to  be  baked  for  the  third  time.  When 
they  come  out  of  the  oven  now,  the  gold  will  look 
quite  dark  and  dull,  so  it  is  burnished.  Then  the 
gilt  work  shines  brightly,  just  like  real  gold,  and 
when  the  cups  stand  on  the  breakfast  table,  they 
reflect  the  light  of  the  sun  splendidly.  Eighteen 
ditf erent  things  are  done  to  the  china  before  it  has 
firuished  its  journey  from  the  rough  material  to 
the  perfect  cup. 

We  are  clay  in  the  hands  of  our  Heavenly  Pot- 
ter, and  we  must  see  to  it  that  we  are  responsive 
to  His  touch  so  that  we  may  be  a  vessel  meet  for 
the  Master's  use.  For  while  there  are  vessels  for 
all  purposes,  and  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  yet  if 
we  let  Him  do  His  will  in  us,  we  shall  all  be  fit  for 
His  service,  and  do  something  for  Him.  Of  course, 
in  part,  we  can  help  to  make  our  lives  what  He 
wants  them  to  be,  for  in  the  habits  we  form,  the 
kind  actions  we  do,  we  are  shaping  our  char- 
acter. And  so  that  the  rough  clay  may  be  beauti- 
ful to  look  upon,  adorned  with  lovely  lines  or 


188       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

figures,  there  must  be  the  painting  of  the  Heaven- 
ly Artist  upon  them,  as  well  as  the  glaze — the 
polish  of  good  temper  and  good  manners. 

The  lost  art  of  porcelain  enamel  was  redis- 
covered by  Bernard  Palissy,  a  famous  French 
potter  of  the  fifteenth  century.  He  worked  so  long 
trying  to  find  the  secret  that  his  family  was  re- 
duced to  poverty,  and  even  his  furniture  had  been 
burned  to  keep  the  fires  going.  At  last,  when  he 
discovered  the  ingredients  that  formed  the  com- 
bination, he  found  he  still  wanted  a  piece  of  gold 
to  complete  it,  and  it  was  only  when  his  wife, 
remembering  her  wedding-ring  gave  that  in  love 
for  her  husband  and  his  work,  that  success  was 
assured. 

It  costs  a  good  deal  to  be  all  Christ  wants  us 
to  be,  but  He  pays  the  greater  part  of  the  price. 
He  has  made  it  possible  for  us  to  become  like  Him, 
and  when  our  lives  are  at  last  complete  under 
His  hand,  then  there  will  be  the  gold  of  good  hu- 
mour, of  kindness  and  love,  and  the  beauty  of 
holiness  shining  in  the  character,  so  that  we  shall 
grace  the  board  of  the  Heavenly  King. 

We  must  try  every  day  to  be  what  our  Lord 
wants.  And  though  we  may  have  but  the  humble 
service  of  being  the  cup  that  offers  a  draught  of 
cool  water  to  the  thirsty  soul,  our  life  shall  not 
be  in  vain. 


XLVII 
EOBIN  REDBEEAST 

DO  you  know  how  the   robins  got  their  name? 
What!  you  don't?    Well,  how  did  they  come 
to  have  red  breasts? 

Once  upon  a  time,  long  before  there  were  rail- 
ways, there  was  a  traveller  whose  way  ran  among 
the  lonely  mountains,  and  having  heard  that  there 
were  robbers  lurking  there — at  least,  the  people 
of  the  village  he  reached  late  one  night  said  so — 
he  was  not  eager  to  go  any  farther  alone.  So  he 
decided  to  wait  for  a  few  days,  until  perhaps,  some 
other  travellers  might  come  along  who  were  going 
the  same  way.  Then  they  could  form  a  party  and 
find  safety  in  numbers. 

He  waited  for  a  week,  but  no  one  came,  and  so 
he  determined  to  set  off  alone,  first  thing  next 
morning.  But  as  he  was  packing  his  valise  that 
night,  another  man  came  to  the  little  inn,  and  to 
the  traveller's  delight,  he  found  that  the  other 
was  going  to  the  same  place. 

He  explained  how  he  had  been  waiting  because 
of  the  brigands,  and  added,  ^ '  So,  if  you  are  agree- 
able, I  will  join  you  to-morrow,  and  we  can  set  off 
early.  We  ought  to  reach  the  next  village  before 
dark.'' 

This  was  agreed.  The  inn-keeper  called  the  two 
men  as  soon  as  it  was  daylight,  and  with  their 

189 


190       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

bundles,  and  a  stout  staff  each,  they  started  on 
the  rest  of  their  journey. 

The  newcomer  was  quite  a  jolly  man.  He  had? 
travelled  far,  and  he  had  so  many  interesting 
things  to  talk  about,  that  the  journey  did  not  seem 
a  bit  long.  Good-humour  and  cheerfulness  always 
make  things  a  lot  easier  for  everybody.  And  by 
noon,  the  two  men  had  reached  the  pass. 

*^I  don't  think  there  are  any  brigands  about 
here,"  said  one.  *^I  have  not  noticed  a  living 
thing  except  those  few  goats,  and  the  birds,  have 
your' 

*^No!"  replied  the  other.  ^^  Perhaps  it  was 
mere  idle  talk.  It  may  have  been  a  trick  to  keep 
travellers  longer  at  the  inn  than  they  would  other- 
wise have  stayed.  What  do  you  say  to  a  bit  of 
lunch  nowT' 

^*Good!  I'm  ready  for  mine.  The  sharp  air 
of  these  mountains  does  make  one  hungry." 

They  selected  a  spot  against  some  rocks  where 
they  sat  down,  and  unstrapping  their  bundles, 
they  ate  their  lunch. 

' '  Shall  we  rest  for  a  little  while  1 ' ' 

^^Well,  I  think  we  ought  to  get  on.  We  must 
be  over  the  mountain  before  dark,  you  know." 

^^Oh,  a  few  minutes  longer  will  not  matter. 
Let's  just  take  the  chance  while  we  can.  Be- 
sides, we  shall  get  along  all  the  faster  after- 
wards." 

Strange  to  say,  they  both  fell  fast  asleep;  so 
fast,  indeed,  that  they  did  not  hear  the  warning 
voice  of  a  flock  of  birds  that  had  been  hovering 
round,  and  that  had  then  come  down  to  pick  up 
the  crumbs. 


ROBIN  REDBREAST  191 

The  birds  had  seen  something,  and  to  show 
their  gratitude  for  a  splendid  lunch,  they  called 
their  loudest,  chirp,  chirp,  chirp — ^hoping  to  wake 
the  two  men  before  it  was  too  late. 

Quietly,  stealthily,  the  brigands  came  down 
from  their  hiding-place.  They  had  been  watching 
the  travellers  and  this  was  the  chance  they  were 
waiting  for.  They  fell  upon  the  men  with  clubs 
and  sticks,  and  snatching  up  their  valuables,  they 
left  their  victims  senseless  on  the  ground. 

^^What  can  we  doT'  chirped  one  of  the  birds, 
for  the  whole  flock  had  returned  the  moment  the 
robbers  left.    ^'We  cannot  leave  them  to  die.'' 

*^We  cannot  do  anything,"  answered  another, 
*' unless  some  of  us  fly  to  the  village  and  bring 
help.  But  those  grown-ups  would  never  under- 
stand even  if  we  told  them." 

^'That  won't  do,"  chimed  in  a  third.  *^Yet, 
when  they  gave  us  those  crumbs,  we  ought  to  do 
something.  I'll  tell  you  what!  I've  got  an  idea. 
We  cannot  bind  up  their  wounds,  but  we  might 
be  able  to  stop  them  bleeding.  Let  us  gather 
leaves  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  we  will  lay  them  on 
their  wounds." 

Off  the  birds  flew  as  hard  as  they  could.  Each 
one  seized  a  leaf  in  his  beak,  and  flying  back  again, 
they  laid  them  carefully  on  the  wounds  of  the 
stricken  men. 

It  looked  as  though  this  was  going  to  do  some 
good,  for  after  a  time  one  of  the  men  opened  his 
eyes,  and  although  he  was  very  weak,  he  was  able 
to  tear  his  neckcloth  into  strips  and  bandage  the 
places  where  the  robbers  had  hurt  him.     Then 


192       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

after  awhile,  lie  was  doing  the  same  thing  for  his 
friend  and  their  lives  were  saved. 

The  birds,  seeing  they  could  not  do  any  more, 
flew  back  home,  but  they  were  in  a  terrible  state. 
All  the  front  of  their  breasts  were  marked  with 
red  stains,  and  at  once  a  black  crow  went  to  re- 
port the  matter  to  the  king  of  the  birds. 

The  culprits,  looking  very  much  ashamed,  were 
led  into  the  presence  of  the  golden  eagle.  He  was 
very  angry  to  see  some  of  his  subjects  in  such  a 
disgraceful  condition,  and  he  said,  ^'This  matter 
is  most  grave!  Unless  you  can  explain  satisfac- 
torily what  you  have  been  doing,  you  shall  all  be 
banished  from  our  court  for  all  time.  Now 
speak!" 

The  robins  hung  their  heads. 

^  ^  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  have  nothing  to 
say?" 

Then  up  spoke  the  bird  who  had  suggested 
bringing  the  leaves,  and  in  a  few  words,  he  told 
how  they  had  tried  to  help  the  travellers  in  the 
mountain  pass,  and  how,  in  doing  that,  the  red 
stains  had  got  upon  their  feathers.  *^And  may  it 
please  your  majesty,"  he  concluded,  **we  have 
done  our  best  to  make  ourselves  clean,  but  the 
marks  will  not  come  out." 

The  eagle  looked  a  little  more  pleased,  but  one 
of  the  old  counsellors  said,  *'But^  your  majesty, 
that  is  surely  not  all.  These  robins  are  guilty  of 
treason!" 

* '  Treason !  Treason ! ' '  echoed  the  other  birds, 
although  they  did  not  know  exactly  what  the  other 
meant. 

^' These  interfering  fellows,"  went  on  the  old 


ROBIN  REDBREAST  193 

bird,  ^^have  forgotten  that  men  are  our  enemies. 
Po  not  cruel  boys  climb  the  trees  and  rob  our 
nests?  Do  not  men  snare  some  of  our  brethren, 
and  kill  them?  Yet,  on  their  own  confession,  these 
fellows  have  saved  the  lives  of  two  of  our  bitter- 
est foes.  Banish  them !  Let  them  be  outcast  from 
the  sacred  brotherhood  of  the  birds ! ' ' 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  twittering  at  this. 
Some  thought  that  the  old  counsellor  was  far  too 
severe,  while  others  said  that,  at  any  rate,  what 
he  said  about  boys  was  true  enough. 

The  king  waved  his  sceptre,  and  a  dead  silence 
fell  on  the  court. 

^*A11  that  our  learned  friend  has  said  is  true, 
but  it  seems  to  me  that,  although  the  robins  have 
done  what  none  of  us  would  have  done,  they  have 
done  what  our  Creator  would  wish.  His  Son  says, 
^Love  your  enemies,'  and  the  robins  have  shown 
that  though  men  are  sometimes  very  cruel  to  us, 
yet  we  can  return  good  for  evil. 

^'The  sentence  of  the  court  is,  that  they  shall 
wear  this  red  mark  upon  their  breasts  from  this 
time  forth,  and  their  children  after  them.  But 
it  is  not  a  mark  of  shame,  but  one  of  the  highest 
honour.  They  did  a  noble  and  kindly  deed,  though 
at  the  cost  of  their  appearance,  and  I  decree  that 
this  red  mark  of  unselfish  service  shall  be  hon- 
oured by  us  all,  for  it  shall  serve  to  remind  us 
that  we  too  ought  to  help  others  when  we  can !  * ' 

There  were  chirping  cheers  as  the  king  finished 
speaking,  and  so  to  this  day  these  birds  are  called 
Robin  Redbreast.  They  bear  the  badge  of  honour 
that  belongs  to  those  who  do  their  best  to  be  help- 
ful, kind,  and  true. 


XLYin 
THE  LEAGUE  OF  LIGHT-GIVEES 

WHY  don't  you  lamps  become  friends T' 
asked  the  policeman  one  night,  address- 
ing a  tall  electric  lamp  that  shed  his  beams  on  the 
pavement.  **What  I  can  see  of  it,  you  are  all 
doing  the  same  kind  of  work  although  in  different 
ways.    Why  be  so  savage  with  one  another?'' 

The  constable  did  not  know  it,  but  he  had 
really  touched  on  a  very  delicate  matter,  for  the 
lamps  were  anything  but  friendly  with  one  an- 
other. It  may  have  been  because  they  did  not 
know  each  other  well.  You  see,  there  were  so 
many  of  them,  and  they  lived  in  such  scattered 
districts. 

Some  were  in  people's  houses,  and  others  on 
lonely  headlands  round  the  coast,  guiding  the 
sailors  with  the  warning  beam  of  the  lighthouse. 
Some  had  their  place  in  great  factories  where  the 
machinery  ran  all  through  the  night,  or  in  hos- 
pitals where  sick  people  lay;  while  perhaps  the 
least  fortunate  of  all  were  those  who  had  to  stand 
in  all  weathers  in  the  dark,  draughty  streets.  No 
wonder  they  were  sometimes  weary  of  their  work, 
for  they  were  always  standing  in  the  same  place. 
And  it  is  not  surprising  to  hear  people  sometimes 
talking  about  being  as  stiff  as  a  lamp-post ! 

Perhaps  it  was  because  of  their  long  hours  and 

194 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  LIGHT-GIVERS       195 

the  fact  that  they  were  awake  all  night  that  made 
them  a  trifle  cross.  Haven't  you  noticed  that 
little  people  who  do  not  go  to  bed  in  good  time  are 
sometimes  a  bit  peevish  and  ill-tempered? 

The  lamps  in  the  side  streets  thought  the  great 
electric  lights  were  far  too  proud,  and  inclined  to 
look  down  on  everyone.  The  oil-lamps  disliked 
the  gas  because  it  gave  such  a  good  light  and  put 
them  in  the  shade,  and  as  for  the  candles — ^well,  no 
one  had  a  good  word  to  say  for  them.  They  were 
always  what  the  boys  call  Waxy,  and  very 
easily  put  out ! 

That  being  the  case,  you  will  understand  that 
they  could  not  be  either  very  happy  or  good 
friends  when  they  were  always  finding  fault  with 
one  another.  But  the  policeman's  remarks  were 
passed  on,  and  they  set  everyone  thinking. 

^^ After  all,''  said  some  of  the  lights,  **why 
shouldn't  we  be  on  good  terms  with  one  another 
when  we  are  all  fighting  the  common  foe.  Dark- 
ness?" 

So  a  meeting  was  called.  The  thing  was  talked 
over  for  a  long  time,  and  then  it  was  decided  to 
form  a  League  of  Light-givers. 

The  Electrics  forgot  their  up-to-date  splendour. 
The  Gas  put  aside  its  dislike  for  the  rather  smelly 
Oil-lamps.  And  being  now  formed  into  a  brother- 
hood of  brightness,  they  determined  to  put  all 
gloomy  thoughts  away  for  ever. 

Everyone  seemed  delighted  until  a  motor-head- 
light, who  had  travelled  the  country  a  good  deal 
and  was  known  to  be  an  exceedingly  bright  fellow, 
remarked,  *'We  seem  of  one  mind  about  this 
League.    I  am  glad  to  see  that  our  friends,  the 


196       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

Electrics,  have  joined  hands  with  the  Gras,  and 
I  am  more  than  pleased  that  our  old  comrades,  the 
Oil-lamps,  have  promised  not  to  smoke  any  more 
than  they  can  help  in  order  that  the  comfort  of 
everyone  may  not  be  interfered  with,  but  haven't 
we  forgotten  something?  What  about  the 
Candles!'' 

^^Oh,  you  don't  expect  us  to  mix  with  common 
candles,  do  you?"  asked  a  gas-lamp.  He  had  put 
off  his  incandescent  mantle  on  account  of  the  heat, 
and  he  now  flamed  up  in  a  bit  of  temper,  for  he 
was  not  quite  himself.  **They  are  not  admitted 
to  decent  society.  Why,  in  the  house  where  I  live, 
they  simply  would  not  think  of  using  candles.  We 
can 't  have  them  in  the  League. ' ' 

^^ Rather  not!"  chimed  in  an  oil-lamp.  ^^They 
are  very  old-fashioned  and  horribly  poor.  If 
they  are  joining,  then  I'm  not!" 

At  that  moment,  one  of  the  tall  electric  stand- 
ards who  held  an  important  position  in  the  city, 
spluttered  and  jumped.  The  others  looked  anx- 
iously at  him,  thinking  that  possibly  he  had  been 
taken  ill,  but  he  quickly  recovered  himself  and 
said,  somewhat  jerkily,  **But  why  keep  out  the 
candles?" 

*^  Because  ..."  began  the  oil-lamp  who  had 
last  spoken. 

*^ Because  they  are  old  and  poor?  That  is  no 
reason.  Are  they  not  light-givers  just  as  much  as 
we?  I  could  tell  you  something  that  I  saw  last 
week — I  wonder  if  I  should. ' ' 

The  other  lights  brightened  up.  This  sounded 
interesting,  for  this  great  fellow  was  known  to  be 
both  brilliant  and  wise. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  LIGHT-GIVERS       197 

** Shall  IV  asked  the  arc-lamp. 

^^Yes!    Goon!'^ 

**Well,  a  few  nights  ago,  I  was  not  feeling  quite 
up  to  the  mark — congestion  of  the  carbon  or 
something.  ..." 

^^ Perhaps  the  currents  disagreed  with  you," 
cried  the  Gas  with  a  laugh. 

*^Look  here!  Who  is  telling  this  story?"  re- 
torted the  Electric  good-humouredly.  ^^You  are 
meant  to  be  seen,  not  heard." 

**A11  right!  No  offence.  1  was  trying  to  get  at 
the  *  raisin'  of  your  illness." 

**What  I  was  saying  was,  I  felt  a  strange  kind 
of  choking,  and  after  an  attack  of  jumps,  out  went 
my  light.  Well,  I  never  think  it  is  any  use  mak- 
ing a  fuss  when  things  go  wrong.  I  just  take  them 
as  they  come  and  make  the  best  of  them.  Of 
course,  I  could  not  do  anything  till  my  man  came 
round  in  the  morning,  and  as  I  wasn't  a  bit  sleepy 
— ^being  used  to  staying  up  all  night,  you  know — I 
had  time  to  look  around. 

^^Now,  there's  an  old  lady  who  lives  in  a  big 
house  right  opposite  to  where  I  stand.  The  house 
isn't  hers.  She  has  only  one  room.  I  happen  to 
know  that  she  is  very  poor,  and  if  it  were  not  for 
the  little  girl  who  brings  a  basket  of  good  things 
now  and  then,  I'm  afraid  she  would  lack  many  a 
comfort.  Now  I  usually  give  her  enough  light 
for  her  to  see  her  way  about,  but  this  night,  of 
course,  it  was  dark.  Her  cough  was  very  trouble- 
some. I  could  hear  it  even  from  where  I  stood. 
So  she  had  to  light  her  one  candle. 

*^Poor  little  chap!  It  wasn't  very  much  he 
could  do,  but  he  did  his  best,  and  I  was  glad  he 


198       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

did.  I  could  see  that  the  dear  old  lady  was  very 
ill.  And  so,  all  through  the  night,  he  was  burning 
so  that  she  would  not  be  in  the  dark ! 

*  *  Do  you  know,  I  felt  quite  proud  of  that  candle ! 
If  he  had  thought  only  of  himself,  he  would  have 
gone  on  strike.  But  he  didn't;  it  is  only  matches 
that  strike  I  He  just  gave  his  life  to  brighten  hers, 
for  instead  of  lasting  several  nights  he  was  used 
up  all  in  one. 

^^ Don't  you  think  that  was  a  noble  thing  to 
do?"  asked  the  Arc-lamp  looking  round  at  the 
others.  ^^ Isn't  it  fine  to  see  such  unselfishness? 
I  would  not  have  believed  that  anything  so  small 
could  have  done  so  much.  Ought  we  to  keep  the 
candles  out  after  that?" 

With  one  voice  the  gas  and  the  oil-lamps  agreed 
with  their  big  friend  that  the  candles  should  be 
enrolled  in  the  League.  And  the  gas  added,  **As 
they  are  older  than  any  of  us,  let  us  give  them  the 
place  of  honour  in  our  order. ' ' 

So  the  candles  were  made  members  of  the 
League  of  Light-givers,  and  whether  you  are  big 
or  little,  clever  or  not,  you  must  **Let  your  light 
so  shine  before  men  that  they;  may  see  your  good 
works. ' ' 


XLIX 

LESSONS  OF  THE   SNOW 

BAH!  Snow  again !'^  Mr.  Hyam  Evercross 
turned  from  the  window  of  his  breakfast- 
room  to  the  fire  he  had  left,  and  sat  down  again. 
He  was  cross.  In  fact,  he  was  Evercross — that 
was  his  name  and  he  lived  up  to  it ! 

What  was  the  matter  with  him!  you  ask.  Noth- 
ing much.  He  wanted  to  go  out  that  morning,  that 
was  all,  and  being  quite  strong  and  well,  he  could 
not  help  shivering  when  the  snow  came.  Poor 
people  who  had  only  half  the  clothes  that  Hyam 
wore,  and  who  never  had  half  as  much  to  eat, 
whose  boots  let  the  cold  slush  in — these  could  go 
out  in  the  vilest  of  weather,  and  they  could  not 
possibly  feel  the  cold  as  he  did !  That  is  why  he 
did  not  relish  walking  through  the  slushy  streets. 

But  you  will  ask  now,  ^'Why  did  he  not  call  a 
cab  if  he  didn't  like  walking  in  the  snowT' 

Ah,  that  proves  that  you  do  not  know  Mr.  Ever- 
cross.  He  was  not  poor.  He  could  have  hired 
half-a-dozen  cabs  if  he  liked.  But  the  fact  was,  he 
had  always  to  find  something  to  grumble  at,  and 
the  snow  was  something  that  did  not  often  give 
him  a  chance. 

His  man  brought  in  the  breakfast,  and  politely 
wished  his  master  Good  Morning !  But  Hyam  did 
not  answer  for  he  was  not  like  you — you  always 

199 


200       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

remember  your  manners,  and  you  don't  sulk  when 
things  are  not  to  your  liking! 

James  retired  from  the  room  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  and  he  muttered  to  himself,  *'The  wind's 
in  the  east  again!  We're  in  for  another  day  of 
it!"  Though  I  do  not  think  he  meant  that  the 
day  was  going  to  be  windy  so  much  as  breezy ! 

Hyam  did  not  eat  anything.  ^  ^  Who  wants  break- 
fast a  morning  like  this  T '  he  growled.  ^  ^  How  am 
I  to  get  to  the  city!"  And  it  did  not  improve  his 
temper  a  bit  when  a  boy  hurled  a  snow-ball  at  him 
later,  which  sent  his  hat  rolling  along  the  street. 

I  hope  that  you  would  never  throw  snow-balls 
at  old  gentlemen  in  the  street,  because  it  is  not 
quite  fair.  It  is  not  playing  the  game.  But  in 
this  case,  I  am  not  very  sorry  for  Hyam  deserved 
a  good  deal  more. 

Well,  he  got  to  the  city  all  right,  though  he 
managed  to  make  most  people  miserable  who  came 
within  sound  of  his  sharp  tongue.  And  it  was  as 
much  as  the  car  conductor  could  do  to  keep  from 
telling  Hyam  what  he  thought  of  him. 

That  night,  when  the  house  was  quiet  and  Hyam 
Evercross  sat  in  the  firelight  to  save  the  gas,  a 
strange  little  elf  blew  into  the  room.  He  kept  as 
far  from  the  fire  as  he  could,  and  he  called  across 
the  room,    ^^Well,  sir!    How  now?" 

Hyam  had  to  look  twice  before  he  could  see  any- 
one, then  he  growled,  ^*Well?  No,  decidedly  not! 
I  am  far  from  well  after  a  day  like  this !  But  who 
may  you  be  I" 

**I  am  the  Prince  of  the  Snowflakes,"  was  the 
reply. 

**Are  you!    Well,  I  wish  you  had  kept  them  to 


LESSONS  OF  THE  SNOW  201 

yourself  instead  of  making  such  a  mess  of  the 
streets." 

^^Corne,  come,  come/'  said  the  prince.  ** Why- 
talk  like  thatr' 

^*I  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,''  replied  he. 
''Why  should  I  come  with  you?" 

''Well,  that  is  not  quite  what  I  meant  when  I 
said  come,  but  still  it  is  not  a  bad  idea.  Suppose 
you  do  come  with  me.  I  may  be  able  to  show  you 
something  you  have  never  seen  before." 

If  there  was  anything  that  Mr.  Evercross  did 
not  like  it  was  to  have  to  go  out  when  once  he  had 
got  back  to  the  cosy  fire,  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it.  The  little  prince  pulled  at  his  dressing- 
gown,  and  soon  they  were  floating  through  space 
as  well  as  Peter  Pan  could  do  it ! 

"Where  are  we  going?"  asked  Mr.  Evercross, 
rather  angrily. 

"To  what  is  called  the  Black  Country — ^where 
your  old  smoky  chimneys  have  nearly  spoiled  the 
glory  of  God's  beautiful  earth,"  was  the  answer. 
"You  will  see  what  I  have  done  there." 

Soon  they  came  to  it,  and  Hyam  did  open  his 
eyes !  They  were  open  before,  of  course,  but  now 
they  were  wider  than  ever!  It  was  as  though  a 
magician  had  been  at  work  for  the  whole  country- 
side was  changed. 

' '  Well,  do  you  like  it  ? "  asked  the  prince.  ' '  Not 
bad  for  one  night's  work,  is  it?" 

"I  think  it  is  wonderful,"  cried  the  man.  "I 
never  thought  the  snow  could  have  made  such  a 
difference.  Why,  it  used  to  be  horrible  looking 
out  from  the  train.    But,  unhappily,  it  can't  last. ' ' 

"But  why  do  you  say  that?    Surely  it  is  bettex 


^02       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

to  have  things  looking  beautiful  even  if  it  is  only 
for  a  few  hours  than  always  to  have  them  ugly. 
And  why  don 't  you  try  to  make  things  a  bit  better 
in  the  world?  You  are  always  complaining  about 
people  and  making  the  most  of  their  bad  points. 
Why  don't  you  look  for  the  best!  And  they  are 
all  the  better  for  hearing  a  good  word  now  and 
then,  instead  of  being  reminded  of  their  faults." 

The  man  listened.  No  one  had  ever  dared  to 
speak  like  that  to  him  before.  Then  he  took  out 
his  notebook  and  wrote  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
**Note:  It  is  worth  while  making  the  best  of 
things,  no  matter  how  ugly  they  may  be ! " 

They  now  went  on  to  the  open  country. 

*^Look  at  this  field,''  said  the  prince.  **Now 
listen!    Can  you  hear  anything?" 

' '  No, "  replied  Hyam.    ' '  What  should  I  hear  ? ' ' 

**Well,  last  week  I  was  passing  this  field,  and 
T  heard  a  lot  of  tiny  voices  crying  out  that  it  was 
cold  there.    What  do  you  think  it  was?" 

*^Not  babies?"  said  the  man,  for  the  only  thing 
that  cried  as  far  as  he  knew  was  a  baby. 

The  prince  burst  out  laughing.  *  *  No,  no !  You 
are  quite  wrong.  It  was  all  the  seeds  the  farmer 
had  put  into  the  ground,  ready  for  next  year's 
crops.  So  I  just  threw  one  of  my  white  coverlets 
over  them  to  keep  them  warm,  and  now  there  is 
not  a  sound.    They  are  all  fast  asleep." 

Out  came  the  notebook  again,  and  Hyam  wrote, 
*'Note:  Snow  makes  the  earth  happy  by  giving 
it  a  warm  covering."  And  he  added  to  himself, 
^*I  must  go  round  some  of  those  poor  houses  near 
me  and  see  if  they  have  fires  and  plenty  of  bed- 
clothes as  soon  as  I  get  home  again." 


LESSONS  OF  THE  SNOW  203 

Just  then  it  started  to  snow  again.  At  first 
there  were  only  a  few  light  flakes,  but  in  a  moment, 
great  swirling  masses  were  coming  down. 

**I  think  I  would  like  to  get  back  home,''  said 
Mr.  Evercross  to  the  prince,  *Hhat  is,  unless  you 
particularly  want  me  to  stay.  You  see,  I  have  an 
idea  that  perhaps  there  may  be  some  one  not  far 
from  where  I  live  I  could  help.  I  can't  bear  to 
think  that  they  might  not  have  any  coal  a  night 
like  this." 

The  prince  looked  quite  pleased.  **You  have 
learned  some  of  the  lessons  of  the  snow,  I  think. 
Well,  there  is  just  one  more  I  want  you  to  get 
before  we  part.  "Would  you  mind  counting  the 
flakes?" 

Hyam  looked  up,  but  though  he  tried  his  best, 
lie  saw  it  was  impossible. 

**I'm  afraid  I  can't,  and  yet  I  used  to  think  1 
was  good  at  figures !  These  are  too  much  for  me. 
Do  you  particularly  want  to  know  how  many  there 
are?" 

**No!"  replied  the  prince,  *^but  I  wanted  you 
to  try." 

*^But  why?"  the  man  asked,  more  puzzled  than 
ever. 

*^Just  for  this  reason:  you  have  had  much  to 
complain  about  and  I  know  that  occasionally  you 
get  cross.  Do  you  know  why?  It  is  because  you 
have  forgotten  to  count  your  blessings!" 

Mr.  Evercross  looked  as  though  he  wanted  to 
say  something,  but  could  not  find  words,  but  the 
snow-clad  prince  did  not  seem  to  notice  and  he 
went  on: 

**If  you  would  only  look  up  and  try  to  count  the 


204       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

many  things  you  have  to  make  you  thankful  to  the 
Giver  of  good,  you'd  find  that  you  could  no  more 
count  them  than  you  can  count  the  falling  flakes. 
Now  we  are  back !  Remember  the  lessons  of  the 
snow,  and  the  next  time  you  feel  like  ..." 

The  prince's  voice  seemed  to  die  away  in  the 
distance  as,  with  a  violent  start,  Mr.  Evercross 
woke  up! 

** Bless  me!''  he  said.  **Who  would  have 
thought  it!  Lessons  of  the  snow — ^why,  I  never 
thought  of  them  before.  Where's  that  notebook 
of  mine  1    I  mustn  't  forget  them ! ' ' 

It  took  him  a  minute  or  two,  biting  his  pencil, 
before  he  could  recall  what  the  prince  had  said, 
but  then  he  wrote : 

1.  Always  make  the  best  of  things. 

2.  Try  to  make  some  one  comfortable  and  happy. 

3.  Count  your  blessings — that  is,  if  you  can! 

**It  is  only  8  o'clock,"  he  observed.  **Why, 
James  and  I  could  take  a  few  spare  blankets  round 
to-night." 

And  as  he  pulled  on  his  boots  he  was  humming, 

"Count  your  blessings,  name  them  one  by  one, 
And  it  will  surprise  you  what  the  Lord  hath  done." 

His  name  is  no  longer  Hyam  Evercross,  but  one 
that  sounds  very  much  better — Hyam  Everglad. 


THE  STRICKEN  SOLDIEE 

A  SOLDIER  stumbled  along  a  lonely  lane.  He 
was  wounded  and  ill,  and  as  it  was  in  the 
olden  times,  long  before  anyone  thought  of  giving 
aid  to  those  hurt  in  battle,  his  officer  had  given 
him  leave  to  seek  rest  and  help. 

The  man  had  fastened  a  cloth  about  his  head 
as  well  as  he  could  and  a  strip  of  rag  was  wrapped 
round  his  hand,  but  he  was  feeling  so  weary  and 
faint  that  he  could  hardly  put  one  foot  before 
the  other. 

There  was  no  one  about,  and  not  a  house  in 
sight,  so  that  he  did  not  know  where  he  was  goin^, 
but  he  felt  that  it  was  something  if  only  he  could 
leave  the  noise  of  the  battlefield  behind  him. 

Now  it  so  happened,  that  as  he  turned  the  cor- 
ner of  the  lane,  he  saw  a  little  way  oif  a  fine  old 
castle.  It  belonged  to  a  nobleman  of  those  parts, 
though  he  was  anything  but  a  noble  man.  The 
truth  is,  he  had  a  very  ugly  temper,  and  he  often 
did  such  wicked  things  when  his  temper  got  the 
better  of  him,  that  he  was  feared  by  all. 

Still,  the  soldier  did  not  know  that,  which  was 
just  as  well,  and  seeing  the  gardener  brushing  the 
path,  the  poor  fellow  called  to  him  through  the 
closed  gate  and  said,  ^^May  I  just  come  in  and 

205 


206       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

rest  awMle  on  that  seat?  I  cannot  go  much 
farther.'' 

The  gardener  came  down  to  the  railings,  bnt 
he  did  not  open  the  gate,  although  he  looked  very 
sorry  for  the  soldier. 

**I  wish  I  could  let  you  in,  but  I  dare  not!  It 
would  be  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth.  The  mas- 
ter has  given  orders  that  no  beggars.  .  .  . ' ' 

*'But  I  am  not  a  beggar,''  said  the  wounded 
man.  ^^You  can  see  that  I  am  from  the  wars. 
Look  here ! ' '  pointing  to  his  head,  * '  I  am  wounded 
and  have  a  fever  as  well. ' ' 

*^I'm  sorry,  but  it's  no  use.  If  you  keep  on  for 
another  mile,  you  will  come  to  the  village.  Some- 
one is  sure  to  give  you  help  there. ' ' 

The  soldier  smiled  sadly  as  he  said,  **I  cannot 
go  another  mile.  But  of  course,  if  you  cannot 
help  me,  then  I  must  lie  by  the  roadside.  I  am 
nearly  spent." 

He  hobbled  away,  but  as  the  gardener  turned 
back  to  his  work,  a  lady  came  down  the  path  lead- 
ing from  the  castle.  She  was  dressed  in  most 
beautiful  robes,  but  the  tender  look  in  her  face 
was  more  beautiful  still. 

*  *  Who  was  that  soldier  ? ' '  she  asked.  * '  He  looks 
ill.    What  did  he  want?" 

The  gardener  told  his  mistress  all  that  had 
passed,  but  she  said  with  scorn,  **  Afraid  of  losing 
your  place?  Why,  if  it  were  not  for  such  men  as 
that,  you  would  have  no  place  to  lose.  Bring  him 
back!" 

**But  my  lord  gave  me  strict  orders  ..." 

** Bring  him  back  at  once!  I  will  see  that  a  bed 
is  prepared  for  him. ' ' 


THE  STRICKEN  SOLDIER  207 

So  the  wounded  man  was  led  to  the  castle,  but 
as  he  crossed  the  terrace,  some  red  drops  fell  from 
his  wounds  upon  the  white  pavement.  But  only 
the  gardener  noticed  them. 

The  soldier  was  placed  in  the  bed,  and  the  lady 
came  with  water  and  healing  spices  to  wash  and 
dress  his  wounds.  She  bound  up  his  head  again, 
and  as  he  laid  it  on  the  cool  white  pillow,  she  saw 
that  he  was  settling  to  sleep  just  like  a  tired  child. 
So  she  pulled  the  heavy  curtains  across  the  win- 
dow to  darken  the  room  and  stole  quietly  away. 

Just  as  she  reached  the  hall,  her  husband  had 
come  in.  His  face  was  flushed  with  anger,  for  he 
had  seen  the  gardener  busy  trying  to  wash  out 
the  blood  marks  on  the  terrace;  thus  he  learned 
everything. 

**What  is  the  meaning  of  thisT'  he  burst  out. 
**Why  have  my  orders  been  disobeyed?  Who  is 
this  wretched  fellow  you  have  brought  into  my 
house  r' 

*  ^  Oh,  my  lord.  It  is  a  poor  soldier  who  has  been 
wounded.  He  was  asking  for  a  place  to  rest,  and 
I  could  not  see  him  turned  away.  I  have  dressed 
his  hurt,  and  now  he  sleeps." 

^^Does  he!  Then  he  shall  soon  wake  up,  mark 
my  words!  1^11  have  no  lazy  skulking  fellows  in 
my  house.     Tell  me,  woman,  where  is  heT' 

*^In  the  guest-room,  my  lord.'' 

She  saw  the  look  of  anger  in  her  husband's 
eyes,  but  her  thought  for  the  poor  fellow  upstairs 
made  her  brave. 

'^Please  let  him  stay.  He  has  been  fighting  for 
our  land.  Leave  him  in  peace,  if  you  have  any 
love  for  me!" 


208       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

But  the  nobleman  did  not  stop  to  hear  the  rest 
of  her  words.  He  strode  up  to  the  room,  the  lady 
following.  He  tore  back  the  curtains  and  turned 
to  the  bed,  intent  on  clearing  the  soldier  out  bag 
and  baggage,  but  his  outstretched  hand  fell.  He 
stood  motionless.    He  was  spellbound. 

Whether  it  was  simply  the  brightness  of  the 
afternoon  sun  falling  on  the  face  of  the  sleeping 
man  or  not,  I  cannot  say,  but  a  glorious  light 
shone  about  the  head.  Instead  of  the  bandages 
there  was  a  bright  halo  and  a  crown  of  thorns  that 
gleamed  with  golden  radiance,  while  upon  the 
white  coverlet  lay  the  bandaged  hand,  a  red  stain 
showing,  that  must  have  reminded  the  lord  of  One 
whose  hands  were  pierced  with  the  nails  of  the 
cross. 

He  beckoned  to  his  lady  and  stole  from  the 
room,  and  as  he  closed  the  door  behind  him,  he 
said  in  a  strangely  quiet  voice,  *^You  have  done 
well.  I  have  been  blind,  but  now  I  see.  We  are 
indeed  honoured  in  our  guest.  What  was  it  my 
mother  used  to  read  to  me  when  I  was  a  boy? 
*  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these.  My  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
Me.'    However  did  I  forget  thatr' 


LI 

A  STEANGE  NOEL 

FAST  fell  the  snow.  It  was  Christmas  eve  and 
all  through  the  day,  the  heavy  flakes  had  been 
falling,  till  the  streets  were  deep  with  cold  slush 
or  filled  with  high  barriers  where  it  had  drifted. 

A  poor  woman  had  left  her  home  in  a  drab  part 
of  Paris  to  go  to  the  chapel  where  a  service  was 
always  held  on  the  night  before  Noel,  for  she 
wanted  to  ask  the  Good  Father  to  help  her  chil- 
dren at  this  season. 

H;er  shawl  was  worn  and  thin,  and  the  wind 
seemed  to  be  taking  a  delight  in  dashing  it  aside 
and  driving  the  snow  into  her  face.  It  was  cold ! 
And  she  shivered  again  as  she  thought  of  the  little 
stock  of  fuel  at  home  and  the  even  smaller  stock 
of  food  in  the  cupboard. 

She  was  generally  very  brave  and  bright,  al- 
though her  husband  was  away  at  the  wars.  But 
to-night,  although  Christmas  was  so  near,  she 
felt  very  sad.  Perhaps  it  was  because  Christmas 
was  near,  for  as  she  put  her  two  little  children  to 
bed,  she  noticed  that  they  had  put  their  sabots 
in  front  of  the  grate. 

The  French  children  look  for  Santa  just  as  we 
do,  but  instead  of  filling  their  stockings,  he  puts 
something  in  their  shoes. 

209 


210       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

**Mere,''  said  the  boy  (that  was  his  way  of 
saying  Mother),  '*do  you  think  he  will  come  or 
does  he  pass  poor  children  T' 

**Ah,  yes/'  she  had  replied,  ^*I  hope  he  will 
come  like  he  used,''  and  Jacques  and  his  little 
sister  went  to  bed,  happy  in  their  thoughts  of  a 
knife  or  a  ball  for  the  boy,  a  doll  or  a  book  for 
Marie. 

The  mother  thought  of  all  this  as  she  battled 
against  the  wind.  Would  the  Good  Father  send 
something  for  them?  She  stopped  for  a  moment 
for  breath,  and  as  she  did  so,  she  heard  a  moan. 
Looking  about,  she  saw  a  little  boy,  sitting  on 
some  steps,  but  he  was  so  white  with  the  snow 
that  she  had  not  noticed  him.  Who  was  he  ?  Was 
he  lost? 

The  little  chap  could  not  answer  her.  He  was 
faint  for  lack  of  food  and  blue  with  cold.  What 
should  she  do?  Take  him  to  the  police  who  cared 
for  lost  children  ?  But  it  was  farther  to  get  there 
than  to  take  him  back  home  to  the  humble  dwelling 
she  had  left. 

She  wrapped  her  shawl  about  the  boy,  and 
though  he  was  heavy  and  the  slush  made  walking 
difficult,  at  last,  panting  and  weary,  she  got  to  her 
door. 

It  was  only  when  she  got  him  inside  and  sat 
chafing  his  little  feet  before  the  fire  that  she  saw 
how  well-dressed  the  child  was. 

After  a  little  while,  he  seemed  able  to  talk. 
* '  Where  am  I  ? "  he  asked.  * '  I  wanted  to  see  where 
the  baby  Jesus  lay,  and  I  'm  lost. ' ' 

The  woman  tried  to  cheer  the  little  fellow,  but 
try  as  she  would,  she  could  not  find  out  where  he 


A  STRANGE  NOEL  ^11 

lived.  His  name  was  Louis — that  was  all  he  knew 
except  that  **he  wanted  to  see  the  baby  Jesus." 

She  gave  him  some  hot  soup,  and  then  tucking 
him  up  beside  the  sleeping  Jacques,  she  set  off 
again  to  tell  the  police  that  the  boy  was  safe. 

Her  way  lay  past  the  church,  and  as  she  passed 
the  people  were  coming  out.  Ought  she  to  stay 
just  for  a  moment!  The  thought  of  Christmas 
and  the  empty  sabots  by  her  grate  would  not  let 
her  pass,  so  she  just  slipped  into  the  church,  and 
praying  that  her  children  might  not  be  forgotten, 
she  then  went  off  once  more. 

She  had  to  wait  a  few  minutes  inside  the  office.; 
There  was  someone  already  there.  When  he  came 
out,  the  chief  was  saying,  ^^You  can  depend  upon 
that,  monsieur.  The  moment  we  hear  any- 
thing. .  .  .'' 

^^ Pardon,  messieurs,''  broke  in  the  poor  woman, 
*  4s  it  about  the  boy  who  is  lost  1 ' ' 

**  Yes,"  cried  the  gentleman,  **do  you  know  any- 
thing about  him — Louis  is  his  name !'' 

^'He  is  safe.    I  found  him  in  the  snow.'' 

The  father  was  over- joyed,  and  calling  a  taxi, 
he  bundled  the  poor  woman  in,  and  together  they 
drove  to  the  dismal  house. 

On  the  way,  he  told  her  how  the  maid  had  taken 
the  little  boy  out  to  see  the  infant  Jesus,  for  in 
France,  they  have  a  scene  made  in  some  of  the 
churches,  showing  the  Child  in  the  manger,  and 
His  parents  standing  by.  But  the  maid  had  met 
a  friend  with  whom  she  stopped  to  talk,  and  when 
she  thought  of  the  boy,  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

' '  You  will  see  him  again  in  a  moment.  This  is 
the  door,  monsieur." 


212       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

Soon  the  father  had  the  sleepy  Louis  in  his 
arms,  his  heart  full  of  gladness  that  the  child  had 
been  found.  But  the  boy  was  too  disappointed  at 
not  seeing"  the  manger  to  think  of  anything  else. 

^^Can  he  stay  a  little  longer  T'  asked  the  gentle- 
man. *'I  must  go  to  the  telephone  and  let  his 
mother  know.  Then  she  will  send  the  car  here 
for  us  both.'' 

It  must  have  taken  a  long  time  to  telephone  or 
else  for  the  car  to  come,  for  the  father  was  away 
for  more  than  an  hour.  But  I  think  I  know  the 
reason.  He  had  told  the  man  where  to  meet  him, 
and  he  had  been  shopping! 

You  never  saw  such  a  number  of  parcels.  He 
had  understood  the  empty  sabots  at  the  fireside, 
and  the  bare  room  had  told  its  own  tale.  So  no 
wonder  the  poor  mother  was  overcome.  A  ham, 
a  turkey,  tea  and  coffee  and  ever  so  many  other 
things  were  carried  in,  till  the  room  looked  almost 
like  a  store. 

Louis  was  awake  now,  and  as  the  woman  dressed 
him,  he  began  telling  his  father  of  the  beautiful 
dream  he  had  had.  **I  was  looking  for  the  Man- 
ger, but  I  got  so  tired,  and  I  couldn't  go  any 
farther,  so  an  angel  came  from  God.  I  told  her 
I  wanted  to  see  the  new-born  King,  and  she  took 
me  to  a  poor  house,  and  told  me  that  I  should  see 
Him,  for  He  was  bom  in  a  poor  dwelling.  So  I 
was  waiting  to  see  Jesus,  and  when  I  looked,  it 
was  you,  pere ! ' ' 

The  father's  eyes  were  glistening  as  he  said, 
**  Where  we  see  true  love  there  we  see  Christ  bom 
again.  This  good  lady  who  carried  you  to  her 
home  and  cared  for  you  has  shown  Him  to  us.    I 


A  STRANGE  NOEL  213 

wish  we  could  show  Him  to  her.  Do  you  think  we 
could,  Louis  r' 

Louis  watched  his  father  stoop  down  and  stuff 
something  that  looked  like  money  into  the  little 
sabots ;  then  taking  up  two  of  the  mysterious  par- 
cels, he  laid  one  beside  each  little  child. 

* '  Tell  the  dear  children, ' '  he  said,  *  *  that  Christ 
has  truly  come  again  to  the  old  world.  May  their 
Noel  be  as  happy  as  you,  by  your  care  of  my  lost 
boy,  have  made  mine!'* 

The  poor  woman  tried  to  thank  the  good  gentle- 
man, but  she  found  no  words  to  do  so;  she  just 
stooped  and  gave  Louis  a  kiss  on  each  cheek, 
while  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy. 

Everyone  seemed  happy — Louis  and  his  father, 
the  chauffeur  who  had  been  looking  on,  mother 
and  the  nurse  (who  had  been  crying  ever  since 
she  had  missed  the  boy) — and  not  least,  Jacques 
and  Marie  when  they  woke  next  morning;  while 
I  thought  I  saw  Another  whose  face  was  radiant 
with  a  holy  smile.  He  had  seen  it  all.  It  was  for 
His  sake,  who  had  Himself  once  been  homeless 
and  in  need,  that  love  had  done  all  this.  And  He 
said,  **If  only  people  believed  that  to  serve  one 
another  brings  them  happiness,  and  shows  their 
love  to  Me.'' 


.  LII 
THE  MAN  WHOM  NOBODY  LOVED 

THE  sun  was  sinking  fast  as  an  old,  old  man, 
leaning  heavily  on  his  staff,  tottered  feebly- 
down  the  hill.  He  looked  sad,  and  no  wonder,  for 
the  people  who  lived  in  the  city  he  had  just  left 
had  not  understood  him,  though  he  had  tried  to 
help  them  and  to  be  their  friend.  And  now  that 
he  was  going,  some  of  them  had  come  to  the  city 
gates  to  see  the  last  of  him. 

They  were  shouting  after  him,  just  as  one  has 
sometimes  seen  rude  children  calling  after  an  old 
man,  and  some  of  them  took  up  stones  as  though 
they  would  throw  them  at  him. 

*^Go!  go!^'  they  cried,  *'we  are  glad  to  see  you 
are  off  at  last." 

What  had  he  done! 

The  old  man  stopped  and  turned,  as  though  he 
would  say  something.  Then  he  must  have  changed 
his  mind,  for  no  one  likes  talking  to  rude  people, 
and  he  went  on  again,  while  the  men  and  women, 
and  even  the  children  shouted  and  jeered  as  hard 
as  they  could. 

Then  there  was  a  great  noise  that  drowned  their 
angry  cries.  A  flash,  another  roll  of  thunder,  and 
lo !  out  of  a  cloud  came  a  being  with  a  face  that 
shone  like  lightning.    He  held  a  great  book  in  his 

214 


THE  MAN  WHOM  NOBODY  LOVED     215 

hand,  and  as  the  people  looked  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment, he  cried, 

'^0  foolish  ones!  Know  ye  not  that  one  of 
your  truest  friends  leaves  you  this  dayT' 

No  one  answered,  so  the  angel  went  on : 

^'Ye  blame  the  old  man  for  the  ills  ye  have 
brought  on  yourselves.  Ye  forget  the  benefits  he 
has  bestowed  on  you.  Eemember  ye,  when  as 
governor  he  came  to  this  beautiful  city,  how  gladly 
ye  welcomed  him?'' 

"Yes,''  replied  the  folk,  "but  that  was  because 
he  came  full  of  promises.  He  said  he  would  show 
us  the  way  to  wealth.  He  assured  us  of  much 
blessing  and  joy.  But  how  many  of  his  promises 
has  he  kept?'' 

The  angel  looked  very  thoughtful  for  a  moment, 
and  then  opening  his  great  book,  he  said :  "Let  us 
see  who  is  in  the  wrong,  he  or  ye." 

He  turned  a  few  pages.  "Yes,  ye  speak  true. 
I  find  it  is  even  as  ye  say.  H^ere  is  the  promise  of 
good  that  the  old  man  made  when  first  he  became 
your  governor.  But  let  me  read  further.  To 
some  he  entrusted  fine  gold  and  merchandise  that 
he  had  brought  with  him  from  distant  lands. 
Some,  I  see,  did  trade  with  what  he  lent  them, 
and  their  wealth  increased  so  that  all  was  welL 
Then  they  forgot  that  they  owed  something  to 
their  benefactor  and  to  their  poorer  brethren  to 
whom  the  old  man  had  said  a  share  must  be  given. 
So  they  began  to  hoard  yet  more  and  more.  Then 
did  their  wealth  moulder  and  lose  its  power  to 
make  rich.    Is  not  that  so?" 

The  facQ^  of  the  people  showed  that  the  angel 
was  right,  but  not  a  voice  answered  him. 


Stl6       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

'^Others,  I  see  in  this  record,  were  given 
precious  chances  of  increasing  their  knowledge, 
for  the  Ancient  brought  with  him  the  treasures  of 
wisdom.  But  how  many  learned,  as  he  said,  that 
the  way  of  knowledge  is  the  way  of  happiness  and 
success?    Few  indeed! 

^^Some  spake  against  the  knowledge  of  your 
governor,  and  others  were  known  to  have  slept 
with  his  books  before  them.  What  wonder,  then, 
that  ye  have  profited  little!  But  the  fault  is  not 
his  but  yours.  Who  can  teach  those  who  will  not 
learn? 

^*Ye  blame  him  for  the  ills  ye  have  brought  on 
yourselves,  but  I  have  heard  no  mention  of  the 
blessings  he  made  yours.  Is  that  right?  Is  it 
fair?  Answer  me!'^  And  the  angel  looked  into 
the  faces  of  the  folk  with  grief  if  not  anger  in  his 
eyes. 

Then  spake  one  for  the  rest.  *^This  man  is  not 
worthy  of  your  good  opinion,  most  noble  sir.  It 
is  true  that  we  have  made  mistakes,  but  so  have 
all  men. ' ' 

At  this,  the  people  clapped  their  hands,  while 
one  cried,  '^ Truly  said!    Let  our  case  be  heard!" 

The  man  continued:  ^'He  gave  us  some  things, 
it  is  a  fact,  but  what  of  the  things  he  stole  from 
us?  I  was  in  his  service.  When  I  began  I  was 
younger  far,  and  strong.  Look  at  me  now!  He 
promised  us  joy,  but  to  many  he  gave  sorrow.  He 
said  that  we  should  have  all  manner  of  blessings ; 
I)ut  there  is  not  one  who  wishes  to  look  on  his 
withered  old  face  again,  for  little  good  has  he 
brought  to  any  of  us!'' 

There  was  more  clapping,  but  it  died  away  as 


THE  MAN  WHOM  NOBODY  LOVED     21T 

a  man  was  seen  pushing  his  way  to  the  front  of  the 
crowd. 

*^Most  noble  sir,  let  me  speak,"  he  began. 
^  ^  There  is  one  who  is  glad  to  have  met  and  known 
yonder  old  man  of  whom  so  many  say  hard 
things.'*  And  turning  to  the  people  he  waved  his 
hand,  ^^ Hearken,  0  ye  men!  and  I  will  speak!'' 

A  cry  went  round,  '*  Hearken  to  Han,  the  true !" 

*^We  have  known  hard  times,  but  tell  me,  0  my 
friends,  have  they  not  made  us  hardier  though  not 
hard,  trustier  because  we  have  been  tried?  Is 
there  not  good  coming  out  of  all  we  have  seen 
since  the  Ancient  came  among  us!  There  is  a 
bride  in  your  house,  0  Henryk.  There  is  greater 
prosperity  in  our  land,  0  brothers  mine!  The 
children  are  taller;  the  youths  are  stronger;  the 
maidens  are  fairer ;  and  the  old  are  wiser — or  they 
might  have  been!  Surely,  had  we  done  all  our 
governor  bade  us,  then  blessings  untold  would 
have  been  ours.  Yet  this  is  true — ^we  are  far 
better  off  than  we  deserve,  and  that  the  Good  God 
and  my  soul  doth  know.    And  so  know  you  all!" 

The  first  speaker  looked  bewildered.  He  had 
not  a  word  to  say,  not  that  it  would  have  mattered 
much  if  he  had,  for  the  people  were  now  clapping 
and  shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  ^^True! 
True!" 

The  angel  waited  a  few  minutes;  then  making 
a  sign  for  silence,  he  said,  *^We  must  be  fair  to 
both  speakers.  Tell  me  why  the  story  of  the  sec- 
ond was  so  different  from  the  first.  Ban  the  true, 
let  us  hear  you  again." 

Han  looked  up.  ^  ^  I  can  tell  you  that  quite  easily. 
My  friend  has  said  what  he  thinks  is  true,  but  it 


•218       PARABLES  FOR  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

is  only  partly  true,  for  he  lives  in  a  house  that  is 
always  in  the  shadow  of  yonder  rock.  I  have  been 
there,  and  it  is  all  gloomy  and  dull.  Its  window 
is  small,  and  from  it  he  can  see  little,  while,  be- 
cause it  is  on  the  north  side  of  the  city  and  far 
from  the  road,  he  never  sees  the  sun  within,  nor 
do  travellers  pass  that  way. 

^ '  Now  it  so  happens  that  my  house  faces  south, 
3ust  on  the  king's  highway.  It  is  where  my  father 
built  long  years  ago  so  that  I  can  claim  no  credit 
for  that.  But  from  my  windows  I  can  see  the 
valley  lying  there  bathed  in  sunshine,  and  along 
the  highway  pass  my  friends  on  their  way  in  and 
out  of  the  city  gates.  They  never  fail  to  tell  me 
of  the  news  they  have  heard,  of  the  gains  of  the 
market,  or  the  joys  that  the  day  has  brought. 
That  is  why,  under  the  rule  of  our  aged  governor, 
I  have  been  happy  in  the  happiness  of  others,  and 
I  have  seen  the  blessing  of  many  a  home.  It  was 
his  counsel,  his  wisdom,  and  his  righteous  laws, 
that  made  us  prosperous. '^ 

As  Ilan  ceased,  the  angel  said,  **You  speak 
well,  my  friend,  and  what  is  more,  your  words 
ring  true.  Listen  all !  Ye  were  f  oqlish  and  wrong 
to  speak  ill  of  the  man  who  has  been  head  of  your 
city.  The  evils  that  came  were  largely  of  your 
own  making,  and  to  blame  him  was  unjust.  But 
he  can  never  return  to  rule  here  more.  Ye  have 
treated  him  too  badly." 

*^But  we  will  make  amends,"  said  some. 

**Ye  may,"  replied  the  angel,  *^but  not  to  him. 
His  day  is  over.  But  when  his  son  comes  in  his 
place  ye  can  serve  him  better. ' ' 

**His  son?"  they  cried  eagerly.    **Has  he  a  son 


THE  MAN  WHOM  NOBODY  LOVED     219 

then?  And  is  he  to  be  our  governor?  Then  will 
we  serve  him  well  for  the  good  his  father  made 
ours. ' ' 

^*He  will  be  here  ere  the  old  man  passes  out  of 
sight,  and  ye  shall  know  him  for  he  is  young  and 
he  will  bear  the  mystic  figures  on  his  breast  that 
your  calendars  boast.  For  one  year  he  will  rule 
over  you  as  governor  of  your  city.  Thus  saith 
my  Lord  the  King!^' 

And  the  angel  was  gone !  But  a  voice  was  heard 
in  the  distance,  crying, 

**A  happy  New  Year  to  you  alL'' 


THE  END 


Date  Due 

N  1  ■..    ^■ 

^.;.i** 

My  - ,_;  m 

...--^'^ 

0  10  '5 

« 

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Ad  ,<^-  '-fT 

«  .*  2  ■^,. 

1  ;.»-. 

O     ■ 

AF  7-  -H^f 

C"  /\   fM   M        ,■•/ 

• 

,00mmt 

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